


As the Crow Flies

by alpaca_punch, MissAdventurous



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Lives, Akechi Goro-centric, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Foursome - F/M/M/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28854897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpaca_punch/pseuds/alpaca_punch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAdventurous/pseuds/MissAdventurous
Summary: Akechi Goro, ace detective and budding celebrity, wanted nothing more than to bring the Phantom Thieves to justice. Akechi Goro, psychotic break aficionado, planned to strangle the lot of them with his own two hands.And hehadto destroy them, otherwise he might fall in love.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kitagawa Yusuke, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Okumura Haru, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Amamiya Ren/Kitagawa Yusuke, Amamiya Ren/Okumura Haru, Kitagawa Yusuke/ Haru Okumura/ Amamiya Ren/ Akechi Goro, Kitagawa Yusuke/ Haru Okumura/ Kurusu Akira/ Akechi Goro, Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Okumura Haru, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist, Kurusu Akira/Okumura Haru, Okumura Haru/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. A Wildcard

Akechi met _him_ on a day in June when he’d been boiling under the heat of studio lights and fucking famished from shooting all day. 

Honestly, he didn’t notice him at first.

Well, at least not until he opened his mouth and lectured him—The Charismatic Detective, the Second Advent of the Detective Prince, a household name and bona fide celebrity— about the goddamned Phantom Thieves.

But now _Akira_ had his undivided attention. Akechi wouldn’t make the mistake of overlooking his new enemy a second time. In fact, he wanted to learn everything about him. 

* * *

Akechi held his briefcase overhead to fend off the torrent of rain. Water splattered against his face and the back of his neck anyway. He pried open the door to the cafe and smelt the spiciness of curry and coffee. The cold, steady thrum of the air conditioner made goosebumps crawl up his arms.

“Oh, here, let me get you a towel—“ The barista headed into the kitchen. 

Water dripped down the slope of Akechi’s nose and plastered his hair against his face. He pushed his bangs off of his forehead.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a painting— beautiful, and done in a traditional Japanese style, but also _familiar_ in a way he couldn’t quite place. He squinted: maternal love. _How cliche_.

He took a step toward it. Still, how could a rundown backstreet coffee shop like Leblanc afford a such painting. A donation, maybe, he told himself. 

“You’re blocking the light.” A deep, pensive voice spoke from the booth behind him.

Akechi twisted toward the sound. He had charcoal smudged high on his cheekbone and a sketchpad clutched between his fingers. He continued to stare intently at the couple in the booth across from him. Akechi cleared his throat. 

“Here,” Soijiro held a dish towel to Akechi.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Akechi said. 

He squeezed water out of his hair onto the towel. He signed when he heard it pitter-patter against the floor anyway. 

“No problem— what’ll it be?”

“One coffee, please, black,” Akechi sat down at the counter. 

“—Please move your head back to where it was.” The artist said so suddenly a gunshot may as well have gone off. 

Akechi followed his gaze to the couple. The two of them looked at the artist then frowned at each other. 

The woman twisted around to face the artist, “ _Us_?” She pointed between herself and her boyfriend. 

“Yes, now please, if you will.”

Her eyes narrowed and she pointed at the sketchpad, “Are you drawing us?”

Th artist sighed, loud and forlorn. He set the sketchbook down and dragged a hand across his forehead— like they’d inconvenienced him and it hadn’t been the other way around. A dark smudge of charcoal dragged across his forehead. 

“Hey, Yusuke, don’t harass my other customers—” Sojiro grunted from behind the coffee press.

“As you wish, Boss,” Yusuke, the artist, said. He sounded resigned and cagey. Akechi rackled. Yusuke dropped his chin down onto his raised fist, shoulders slumped. 

“—Sorry ‘bout that,” Sojiro tipped his chin toward the couple.

“It’s fine,” Her face scrunched up tight. 

Sojiro sighed and slid a coffee cup over to Akechi. The coffee smelt warm and bitter and aromatic. He inhaled deeply. Between his palms the ceramic felt blessedly hot. 

“Thank you,” Akechi folded the soaked towel over one of his equally drenched thighs. 

He looked back over his shoulder. This time, the artist looked at him too. High cheekbones, deep set eyes, and thin brows. _Yusuke Kitagawa._ The name came to him then: the tragically handsome pupil of Madarame. The grainy photos from Kosei’s yearbook news stations has been showing on TV didn’t do him justice. 

The door slammed open. Another student ambled in, bleached hair soaked and wet, plaid pants about to fall down past narrow hips. _Shujin academy_ , Akechi vaguely remembered him. The student in question shook his head, like a _dog_ trying to dry itself. Water splattered against the back of Akechi’s hand. 

Sojiro took one look at him and groaned. He twisted on his heel, “—I’m getting you a towel.”

“Thanks, man!” The kid nudged Yusuke’s shoulder, “C’mon, scoot over!” He crawled halfway into the booth on top of him.

Yusuke slid out from underneath him, “You could have sat across from me.”

The other student yawned and flung an arm over the back of the booth, “So has his Highness come down outta his crystal tower yet?” He jerked his chin up. 

Yusuke’s eyebrows furrowed, “Who?”

“Ren! _C’mon_ ,” He rapped his knuckles against Yusuke’s shoulder, “Duh.”

“Oh. No, he has not.” 

Akechi blew a breath against his coffee and tried to pretend like he _wasn’t_ eavesdropping. Ren. _Ren_. He’d never heard that name before. His fingers tightened on the cup.

The student clicked his tongue, “You’re a fucking mess, man,” He licked his thumb and scrubbed it against the charcoal on Yusuke’s face. 

Yusuke pushed him off, “What are you doing?”

“Hey, you wanna walk around with shit all over your face like a total dumbass, be my guest.” 

The stairs creaked with the sound of footsteps. Akechi heard the jingle of a bell next before he reached the final step. Then he saw _him._

“Akira!” Akechi beamed at him.

Akira had his bag slung under his arm and his glasses slipping down his nose. The other Shujin student, his friend, _right—_ Akechi had seen him at the TV station too— twisted to glare at Akechi.

His voice pitched up nasally and high, _“—Akechi!”_

“Chill out, Ryuji,” Akira brushed past where Akechi sat. He stopped next to the booth, “I’m going.”

Yusuke sighed but gathered up his belongings. Ryuji popped up out of the booth so fast it made Akechi’s head hurt. Like one of those stupid carnival games, _whack-a-mole_. Akechi’s lower eye twitched. 

Akira turned toward him, light catching on his glasses and hiding his eyes, “Enjoy your coffee.”

Akechi hummed against the rim of his glass, “Oh yes, I intend to, thank you.”

Akira nodded and the two of them followed him out. Ryuji grumbled under his breath— _too loud_. Akechi wondered if anyone had ever taught him how to fucking whisper. 

“Why’s he fucking calling you _Akira_?” At Akira’s pointed glance, Ryuji groaned, “Shit, man, not again! You gotta stop—“

Sojiro came back out and eyed the wet patch in the now empty booth. He set the towel down on the counter.

“They just left,” Akechi said. 

Sojiro only sighed— Akechi didn’t blame him, he also wondered why the hell Akira hung around people like _that_.

* * *

Akechi looked at the neon, twinkling lights. He could imagine the loud beeps and crashes of fake gunshots and cars. When he’d been younger, around the time he’d moved in with his fifth foster family, he used to stare in those windows and pray that he’d be able to get enough money to go inside. But good, well-behaved boys didn’t waste their time playing games in dingy arcades. He wondered why no one ever gave Akira that memo. 

Akechi stared at him: bright lights reflecting off his glasses with a smug smile on his face. A girl nudged his shoulder with a plastic gun. She looked a bit young for him, if Akechi had to be honest. His hand squeezed into a fist, hard enough his nails bit into his palm. 

The girl tossed her head back and cackled, “Ha! I won.” 

Akira pushed another token into the slot. He picked his gun back up and pointed it at the screen. _With his left hand_. 

“Ohhh! Here we go again,” Her tongue poked out between her lips as she aimed. 

“Hey, you two, come on!” A pretty blond girl sauntered into the arcade. More than one of the boys nearby turned to gawk at her. She waved at Akira and the girl, “If you two don’t hurry we’re gonna be late!” 

Akechi raked his mind for her name: Annie, Anna— he clicked his tongue: _Ann_. He narrowed his eyes at her. What business did a beautiful girl like that have with Akira of all people? Criminal trash living in a godforsaken attic _Akira_. He was a delinquent for fuck’s sake. 

“It’ll be fine!” The younger girl piped up, “Ah ya!” She pumped her free hand into the air. 

Ann pulled out her phone, “Hey, Ryuji’s asking where we are.” 

Akira squinted his eyes at the screen, “So tell him.”

 _“C’mon_!” Ann crossed her arms, “We’re going for ramen, aren’t we?” 

The younger girl whooped. A young kid came up and tugged on Ren’s sleeve. Ren stared down his nose at him.

“Hey, you’re Shinji, right? You almost done,” The kid shoved his lower lip out, “I’m waiting to play.” 

Akechi’s eyes locked with the kid’s. He twisted away before he could be recognized. His chest tightened: he wondered what Akira did next, if he left happily with a lady on either arm or if he made the kid cry. The corner of Akechi’s mouth pulled up.

* * *

Crowded, _loud_ , and ice-cold from the AC blasting on his bare arms. Left to his own volition Akechi would’ve never stepped foot in a theater. But here he was: slumped over in the back row, staring at the back of messy, dark hair five rows in front of him. 

Akira’s hand dipped down into the bag of popcorn held between his friend’s— _Ryuji’s—_ thighs. He chewed loudly, crunching and crunching. Akechi grit his teeth. On Akira’s other side sat a girl: she looked around his age with puffy hair. She placed a hand over her mouth to conceal a giggle. How many fucking girls was Akira friends with anyway, Akechi’s teeth ground together. 

On screen, the protagonist realized her mother had been betrayed by the seemingly kind old man who’d mentored her. Said old man was also a ghost. Someone else in the audience gasped. Akechi rolled his eyes. 

The door of the theater squeaked open, light momentarily pouring into the room. A tall figure slipped into the aisle seat next to the girl. 

“You’re late, man!” Ryuji said. From behind them, someone hissed out a _Shhh!_. He jerked around to look at the other moviegoers. 

Yusuke set his bag down next to his feet. Akechi imagined he said _sorry_ but he couldn’t hear. The girl looked like she said something back, with a small smile. She looked pleasant and likeable, hell, she looked _cute_. Akechi glared at the four of them. Akira pulled the popcorn off of Ryuji’s lap and held it out toward Yusuke. Yusuke picked up a single piece of popcorn and stared at it.

“C’mon, man! Don’t be such a weirdo!” Ryuji leaned over both Akira’s and the girl’s lap and smacked a hand against Yusuke’s knee. 

Yusuke placed the popcorn on the flat of his tongue. He shrugged up a shoulder and picked up another piece. The girl swiped up a handful of popcorn too. 

Ryuji kicked his heels up onto the empty chair in front of him. In their row, an old woman gave the four of them a funny look. Akechi wondered if they were sitting too close, too comfortably together for bros or maybe the scandal of one lady being escorted by three boys was too much for her frail heart.

After the movie they left, walking close together down dark streets. Akechi followed them until the station. 

“That was fucking creepy, man! Damn ghosts.”

“Yes, but cinematography was quite good— the use of color was—”

“—The fuck you know about _cinema_ , anyway?” 

“I loved it!” The girl clutched her bag against her chest and smiled at them, “Thank you for coming with me.” 

“Hey! Any time, y’know, you’re a really cute girl, so—“ Akira elbowed Ryuji. 

“We’ll see you another time, Haru,” Yusuke said with a tip of his head. She beamed at them. 

The girl didn't get onto a train like the others, rather she got into a car— black and sleek. _Expensive_. Seeing her sliding onto the leather seat, in her nice name brand coat and starched skirt, Akechi _finally_ recognized her: Okumura’s daughter.

He wondered how someone like her started hanging out with Akira like _old friends_ anyway. His nails dug into the palm of his hand.

* * *

The dim amber lights and smooth rhythm of jazz gave the club a certain... _ambience_ that the other bars around Tokyo lacked. Here, he could be anonymous. 

Akechi headed toward a table nestled in the far back of the room. He saw a familiar figure seated there: messy dark hair and black-rimmed glasses. Akira looked at his phone, chapped lower lip pulled between his teeth. 

Akechi smiled at him: “You came back.”

Akira shrugged up one of his shoulders and shoved his phone roughly into his pocket. Akechi only saw a bright pink screen and something that looked like a heart. The waiter fluttered by them with a colorful, fruity drink in his hand. He glanced down at the receipt in his hand.

“Tarou?” He asked Akira. 

Akira reached up for the drink, “Yeah.” 

Akechi sat down across from Akira. He gestured toward the drink, “I’ll have one of those as well, thank you.” 

Akira took a long sip of the drink. Frothy ice clung to his lower lip. The pink tip of his tongue poked out between his lips to swipe it up. Akechi reached into his bag. Akira stared at him. Akechi set a pistol down on the table.

“Your real name is Ren Amamiya,” Akechi smiled and tilted his head, “Correct?” 

“Yeah,” ~~Akira~~ _Ren_ said. 

Akechi’s stomach tightened. He _should_ be offended for having been played for a fool. More importantly, he wondered why Ren bothered to lie about it. Maybe for the same reason he wore fake glasses. 

Ren jerked his chin toward the gun, “That real?”

“What do you think?” Akechi leaned forward and steepled his hands under his chin. “I am an ace detective, Ren.” 

“Yeah,” Ren wrinkled his nose up like he’d sucked on a lemon.

“I was under the impression you enjoyed model guns.”

“I guess.”

“You work part time at Untouchable, the airsoft shop in Shibuya, don’t you? Surely having a certain amount of knowledge is important for your more discerning... _clientele_.”

“What’re you getting at?”

Akechi laughed and tucked the gun back away into his bag. After a quiet, terse moment the waiter came back with one of the vibrant, green drinks for Akechi.

“Any of your other friends coming, Tarou?” The waiter asked Ren with a nice, well-meaning smile.

The leather of Akechi’s gloves creaked from how tightly he gripped the table. Still, he _smiled_. Smiled and smiled even though the corner of his mouth quivered.

Ren frowned, “They’re busy today.” 

The waiter nodded and took his leave. He said _something,_ maybe _enjoy your drinks_ , but Akechi only heard a ringing in his ears.

Akechi laughed, “You bring other people here, Ren? I must say I’m flattered to know you enjoyed it that much.”

Ren took another sip of his drink, “Yeah,” he mumbled against the rim of his glass, “It’s nice.”

“Mmhmm,” Akechi leaned closer, “Did they like it too?” 

“I guess.”

“Well, I’m certainly happy to hear that!”

“Are you?” Ren looked up with narrowed eyes. 

Akechi tipped his head back and laughed. He pretended to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. Light reflected off Ren’s glasses and hid his expression.

“Ren?”

“Yeah.”

“What were you reading on your phone before? You seemed very interested in it.”

“Nothing.”

Akechi held a hand out toward him, “May I see it then?” 

“Why?” Ren asked while shaking his head.

“Well I must admit _I’m_ interested,” Akechi’s jaw slackened with faked surprise, “If it’s nothing I assumed it wouldn’t be a problem, but if that’s not the case—“

“It’s stupid.” Ren slid his phone across the table, “Enjoy.”

Akechi looked down: neon pink, hearts, and curling cursive font that made his eye twitch. A trashy gossip mag geared toward young girls. Akechi frowned at the title: _How to tell if he’s into you._

“What am I looking at here, Ren?”

“The alternative to googling _how to fuck your friend_ on public WiFi,” Ren swiped his phone back.

Akechi folded his hands together on the table. His thumb dug into the side of his hand. His mouth felt dangerously dry. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then, it sounds like there’s someone you fancy.”

Ren stood up from the table. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and nodded. Akechi’s hand throbbed from how tightly he gripped it. 

“Sure,” Ren agreed. He adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder, “Enjoy your drink.”

“Of course, have a nice evening.” 

Akechi wanted to grab the glass and throw it at the back of his head, he wanted to flip the whole fucking table over— he settled for digging his nails into the leather of his gloves.

Akechi thought of the beautiful Ann Takamaki, of Wakaba’s daughter or that cute girl, Haru Okumura— maybe even the handsome Yusuke Kitagawa or Ren’s dearest idiot, Ryuji. Whoever it was, they were a real wildcard to have made a wolf like Ren want to fuck goddamned cattle.

* * *

“Alright, I’m heading home— make sure to lock up,” Came a loud voice from inside the cafe. Akechi leaned up against the building, hat pulled low on his head and cigarette dangling from his mouth. He pulled the lapel of the ratty black coat up higher against his face.

Akechi took a long drag when Sojiro brushed past him. He watched Sojiro leave down a nearby side street toward his house out of the corner of his eye. He flicked the cigarette down to the ground and stubbed it out with his toe.

 _“Disgusting_ ,” Akechi said low under his breath to himself. 

He twisted toward the door of Leblanc, waiting for the telltale _chink_ of the lock. Instead, he saw the lights flick off. Akechi stepped forward and placed his hand on the doorknob. He waited a moment before he twisted the doorknob. The unlocked door swung open.

Akechi slipped inside and kicked his shoes off. He crept up the stairs, careful not to put his weight down too fast in case they creaked.

Akechi expected to see Ren— and his godforsaken feline companion— in bed. Rather, he heard the soft drone of the TV, its light being the only one in the room. Akechi looked around: Ren’s futon rolled out across crates, the couch covered in worn out suede, and a grimy coating of dust over every surface. 

So _this_ was what the homes of delinquents looked like. Akechi wanted to laugh or scream, because it reminded him of the rooms he’d spent his childhood in. His chest ached.

The stupid cat snored atop the bed. Akechi would’ve loved to throw something at him. Akechi’s looked back to the couch where Ren sat with an arm slung around Yusuke’s shoulders and Haru’s legs across his lap. 

From the TV Akechi heard the music deepen: duuuunnnn duun… duuunnnnnnnn dun dun dun dun dun— _Jaws_. The three of them were watching Jaws together. 

“Hey,” Ren’s fingers played with the back of Haru’s hair, “Did you like Hawaii? We never talked about it before.”

“Oh yes, I enjoyed it quite a bit,” She clapped her hands together, “Being a chaperone wasn’t as exciting as actually going on the trip I’m sure, but it was a lovely break.”

“The sunsets were quite picturesque,” Yusuke settled against Ren, “I do believe that was the first time we spent time together, Haru.”

“Wait, what? You two went on a date in Hawaii?”

“I don’t think I’d quite consider it a date, but we had a nice time,” Haru giggled and nudged Yusuke’s thigh with her toes, “Yusuke was painting on the beach and let me sit with him.”

“You were good company,” Yusuke smiled.

“Are you saying I’m not good company?” Ren slouched down lower on the couch, “Why wasn’t I invited?”

“If I remember correctly, I believe you were with Makoto.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to be.”

“We only talked for a bit. I didn’t even get Yusuke’s name,” Haru smiled, “I didn’t really know any of you then anyway.” 

“Yes, it was quite the chance encounter, who would think that fate would connect us again so soon after.”

Ren gave a tug to Haru’s hair, “Uh-huh, miss Beauty Thief has a way with fate alright.”

“Shh,” Haru patted Ren’s chest, “We’ll miss the best part!” She pointed excitedly to the screen. 

Yusuke’s eyes widened with scandalized shock. The horrified screams of beachgoers filled the attic. 

“What is this? Ren, you told me this movie would have and, I quote, ‘picturesque scenery and beautiful ocean views’.”

“Sure, like Hawaii,” Ren shrugged up a shoulder, “Just with a big shark.” Ren dipped his head down, mouth tracing along Yusuke’s jaw, “Y’know, if you’re scared I’ll protect you.” 

“Considering you’re the reason I’m in this predicament, I think I’d rather entrust my fate to the Beauty Thief.” 

Haru leaned over Ren and pressed a kiss to Yusuke’s cheek, “Then I’ll protect you.” 

Ren rolled his eyes and flicked the back of her head. She lightly batted his hand away. They looked so... normal, domestic almost, with their limbs tangled up on the couch. 

Akechi’s hands squeezed into fists. Whatever he’d expected, he never thought Ren would have two partners. Certainly, the fact that he’d somehow attracted two very good-looking people didn’t help assuage Akechi’s pride. 

Akechi snuck away before they noticed him. He slipped on his shoes and looked back to the stairway. His heart ached with a strange... _longing_. His lip curled back into a snarl. 

Akechi inhaled a slow, deep breath: he hadn’t lost to Ren yet. And now, he knew how to take everything away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve recently played Royal for the first time— but I also made the mistake of watching the anime after (if you haven’t seen it... don’t.)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading so far!


	2. Gunshots

A gunshot to the head felt like letting Ren off easy. 

Whenever Akechi closed his eyes he could see the bullet hole in his forehead and the puddle of blood underneath him. His teeth ground together. He didn’t _want_ to think about him anymore. But Ren’s claws had dug in so deep they couldn’t be removed unless Akechi tore himself apart. Currently, that option was under consideration. 

_This_ place didn’t help at all; he inhaled the warm, spicy smell of coffee and curry. The room felt too warm, _stuffy_ almost, compared to the chilly air outside. 

Akechi peeled off one of his gloves and looked around the restaurant. The booths were empty other than a familiar artist slumped over a canvas. Akechi’s eyes flicked back over to the painting on the wall: _Sayuri_.

“Where did they ever find a painting like this?” Akechi asked, “It looks almost as good as the original— _well_ , baring one small artistic liberty.” 

“Akechi,” Yusuke looked up, “What brings you here?”

Akechi placed his briefcase down in the booth seat across from him, “I was craving a cup of coffee— I’d say Leblanc’s is the best in Tokyo,” He took a seat, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose.” 

“Oh! Well in that case, do you have other recommendations? You have such a diverse group of friends, I’m sure you frequent many different places.”

“I believe you know most of our usual spots already.” 

Akechi steepled his hands under his chin, “Mmm.” He clicked his tongue, “I almost forgot! On the way here I heard a little girl complaining about a cat meowing all night—“

“How odd.”

“Yes! She said she heard it coming from _this_ alleyway,” Akechi dropped his cheek into his palm.

“There’s a feral cat colony nearby. Ren used to complain about hearing them at night.”

“Oh! You know,” Akechi pressed his palms flat to the table, “I saw the window upstairs cranked open— I’d hate to bother Mr. Sakura, do you think he’d mind if I popped my head upstairs and closed it? Surely his heating bill will be exorbitantly high with the cold front moving in.”

Yusuke’s mouth thinned into a tight line, “I doubt he’d have any issue with it.” 

“Wonderful!” Akechi got up to his feet, “Would you care to accompany me up?” 

“I’d rather prefer not to,” Yusuke shook his head, “I haven’t been up there since before he...” He frowned.

“Oh yes, my condolences about your leader,” Akechi drawled the word out, “What a tragedy. I never would’ve expected him capable of such a thing.” 

“Of course,” Yusuke picked back up his paintbrush, “No one could’ve.” 

The corner of Akechi’s mouth quivered. Yusuke’s eyes flickered back to him. He looked... well, he almost looked bored. Akechi’s upper lip twitched to fight off a snarl.

Yusuke cleared his throat, “If that’s all, I need to finish this in peace,” He gestured toward the canvas.

“Oh, of course! Perhaps I’ll end up crossing paths with you again soon,” Akechi said before he headed up the stairs. 

Ren’s attic room looked exactly like Akechi remembered it: down to the wilted, little plant by the wall and the boxes stacked underneath his futon. Akechi scoffed and tugged on one of the plants leaves. He’d expected it to crumble in his hand, but by some miracle the thing was still solid and green. 

Akechi crouched down and looked under the bed. Just crates and shitty porn magazines and hills of dust— Akechi wheezed. He pressed a finger under his nose and stood up. He yanked the window closed before he headed back down the stairs.

That stupid cat only had so many places he could hide. No matter where he went, Akechi would find him. Maybe he’d shoot him in the head, just like his... _owner_.

* * *

The rooftop smelt like damp, musty earth. Akechi wrinkled his nose up. He pressed the door closed with a quiet _chink_ : four pairs of eyes turns toward him. He smoothed his mussed hair back off his forehead, tucking the fake glasses over the collar of his shirt. 

“—What the fuck are _you_ doing here?” Ryuji lunged up from his place by the plant potters.

Akechi rubbed his fingers together, sighing at the dust sticking to the leather. Ryuji got up into his face. One bony fingertip jabbed against his sternum.

Akechi asked, “Is something the matter, Ryuji?” 

“Fuck you, man.”

“Ryuji,” Haru got up to her feet. 

“Calm down, Ryuji!” Ann grabbed onto his sleeve.

Ryuji clicked his tongue and backed up from Akechi. Haru’s fingers gently closed over his other wrist. Ann crossed her arms next to Ryuji’s other side. Yusuke sighed as he tucked one of the seedlings into the soil. He brushed dirt-covered hands against his knees.

“Do you need something, Akechi?” Yusuke’s face tipped up toward him. 

Akechi laughed, “Well, not exactly—“ 

“Why the hell are you hangin’ around our school?” Ryuji’s lip curled back. 

“Are you even allowed up here?” Ann glared at him.

Akechi tugged his glove on tighter, leather snapping against the skin of his wrist. Certainly, Akechi could think of many better ways to spend a Sunday, yet, here they were. 

“My reasons aren’t so terribly different from Yusuke’s, I’m sure.”

Haru held a rusty trowel out toward him, “You want to help with the garden?” Her pleasant expression didn’t reach her eyes.

“Not quite,” Akechi admitted. 

“Of course you don’t,” Ann shook her head.

Haru nodded and dropped the trowel back down to rest by her side. Ryuji _growled_ at him. Like a rabid animal. Akechi’s eye twitched.

Ryuji cleared his throat, “The fuck do you want anyway?” 

“I came to visit you,” Akechi reached over and plucked the trowel out of Haru’s hand. “We had a deal about disbanding the Phantom Thieves,” He pointed it toward the four of them. He closed his eyes and tipped his head to the side with a demure smile. 

“Ren’s _dead_.” Ryuji lunged in front of Haru. The tip of the trowel pressed against his sternum, “So I’d say we’re pretty fucking disbanded!”

Akechi tipped his head to the other side, he gestured from Ryuji over to Yusuke, Ann and Haru, “What’s this then?” 

“Frankly, how we spend our free time shouldn’t concern you,” Yusuke stood up and came to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Ryuji. 

Haru nodded, “It’s my garden. They offered to help.” 

“No longer being the Phantom Thieves doesn’t mean we’re not able to hang out,” Ann pointed her finger at Akechi.

“We’re _friends_ , dipshit,” Ryuji added with an aggressive jerk of his chin. 

Yusuke looked off to the side, “You promised to capture the remaining phantom thieves on a live broadcast.”

“Oh, yes, I intend to do that still,” Akechi smiled, close-lipped and tight, “But I can try to give you as much time as you’d like.”

“Fuck off.” 

“Akechi—” Haru cut herself off with a sigh. 

Akechi tipped his head back, “Hmm?” 

She shook her head. Yusuke placed a hand on her shoulder. She smiled up at him. He nodded at her. Ryuji twisted to look at them and even his hackles seemed to lower. Akechi’s eyes narrowed. 

“I stopped by your exhibit, you know— _desire and hope_ ,” Akechi tilted his head to the side, “A rather cliche subject matter, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Yusuke nodded, “Yes, but cliches are a byproduct of human emotions and lived experiences—“

“—What the fuck, man! Who do you think you are _stalking_ us?” 

The left side of Akechi’s mouth twitched into a grin. He tried to force his expression back into passive neutrality. An ugly, blotchy flush broke out across Ryuji’s face. 

“Cut it out! God, it’s fucking _creepy—_ “

“Ryuji, _Stop_! Don’t let him get under your skin.”

Haru stepped forward, hands squeezing the hem of her skirt, “Akechi.”

“Yes, Haru? What can I help you with?” 

“What do you want?” 

Akechi’s mouth tightened into a line. He laughed, light and demure. He wondered if she could see his mask cracking.

“What we agreed upon— that’s really not so much to ask, is it?”

Haru shook her head, “Alright. We won’t meet up anymore.”

Akechi wanted to laugh, to bask in the feeling of victory— instead he felt brutally and bitterly empty. He smiled at all of them anyway, like they’d given him exactly what he wanted.

Akechi didn’t know how to get over it: late at night he could see Ren with a bullet in his forehead or fucking _lounging_ on a shitty couch with his partners. He exhaled slowly— maybe after he had the pleasure of wringing Morgana’s neck he’d be able to let it go.

* * *

_What do you want?_

Akechi wished he had a fucking answer to that question. Wished he could forget her words and her _face_ — Maybe, on any other day, the crowded underground mall of Shibuya station would be a good distraction.

But today he had come for one specific reason: and _she_ stood next to one of the pet supply stands in a fluffy, pink coat. Akechi tugged the collar of his coat up higher and came to stand next to her. 

Haru’s fingers dragged down along a row of stuffed mice— bright pink, and blue, and yellow— one was realistic enough Akechi took a second look. 

“I didn’t know you had a cat, Haru!” Akechi said. 

He flicked the plump stomach of one of the stuffed mice. Haru twisted toward him, her jaw slackening. He smiled at her. She shook her head sharply. 

“I don’t,” she picked up one the pink mice, “I was thinking about Mona.” Her lower lip pulled into her mouth, “He acted like he didn’t like stuff like this but...” 

“Oh,” Akechi nodded, “I apologize if this is hard for you to talk about— but he disappeared after Joker’s arrest, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” Haru turned toward him, “Are you looking for Mona, Akechi?” 

“Not as such! But if it’d make things easier for you, I certainly can.”

“It’s alright,” Haru’s voice sounded wistful and soft, “I know you wouldn’t find him anyway.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure! I am an ace detective after all.”

Haru stared at Akechi closely. Her fingers were white from how tightly she squeezed the strap of her purse. She shook her head and placed the toy back down on the shelf. 

“We agreed not to meet anymore,” Haru said, “So what made you want to follow me here?” 

“Did I say I wouldn’t be keeping an eye on all of you? I’d be quite bad at my job if I didn’t.”

“Do you enjoy your job, Akechi?”

The corner of Akechi’s mouth quivered, “Oh, I apologize if I’ve given you any indication that I’m unhappy. It’s quite the opposite.”

Akechi tipped his head to the side and smiled at her wide enough the left side of his mouth ached. She clutched her purse to her chest.

Akechi knew he’d prove her and all her stupid friends wrong.

* * *

Akechi _did_ end up finding that fucking cat. Actually, he found him right after he found a very much not stone-cold dead in the morgue _Ren_. What happened next was... well, fucking absurd. 

Akechi didn’t know if he should thank Ren for healing him, hate him for shooting the cognitive Akechi, or _really_ hate him for dragging him out of Shido’s godforsaken palace in spite of his protests. 

Akechi’s whole body throbbed from how hard he’d hit the ground. His hand clutched at his aching stomach. He pulled at his shirt to make sure the bullet wound from that fucking _puppet_ didn’t follow him into the real world. He inhaled when he saw a streak of red across white fabric. He frowned at the jagged cut on his hand. He peeled his now bloody shirt up. His stomach looked like a mess of mottled purple and red bruises. 

“Hey, man, you’re looking a lil green there—“ Ryuji held his hands up.

“No shit,” Akechi lip curled back to snarl.

He tugged off his tie and wrapped it around his hand. He yanked it tight and a sharp burn jolted up his arm. He patted his pockets— empty, empty, _empty_ —Where the fuck had his gloves went— 

Haru took a step toward him, “Akechi...”

Yusuke’s arm slid under his back to help him up. Akechi fucking _hated_ being a goddamn invalid. Ryuji came up on Akechi’s other side to help support him.

“You guys get out of here,” Ryuji said to the girls, “We’ll help Ren get him to Leblanc.”

“I’m coming too,” Haru decided. 

“Alright,” Makoto frowned, “Just be careful that he doesn’t try anything.”

Ann nodded, “Text us later, Okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Ryuji adjusted Akechi’s arm over his shoulder. “We gotta hurry— he weighs a ton.”

“Fuck you, you miserable piece of shit,” Akechi said, but it lacked any real anger.

They’d landed close to the backstreets— closer than where they’d came in. Akechi didn’t have the strength to really question it. For now, he took a certain amount of sadistic joy in being deadweight Ren’s friends had to carry. 

At the door of Leblanc, Ren paused, “I know a doctor,” He adjusted the strap of his bag, “I’ll be back.”

Ryuji frowned, “Hurry up, man! I don’t wanna be left with him any longer than I have to!”

Ryuji and Yusuke half carried and half dragged him up to the attic. They dropped him on the couch hard. Akechi grunted and twisted up to sit. Yusuke sat down next to him. 

The stairs creaked, then Haru knelt down in front of him and held out a bottle of water. Akechi twisted the cap off and took a large drink. His fucking hand wouldn’t quit shaking and water dripped down the corner of his mouth.

“Go slow or you might upset your stomach,” Haru placed her hand over his on the bottle to steady him. 

Ryuji sat down on a chair, far enough away he could see if Akechi tried anything. Not that he’d actually be able to stop him, Akechi’s mouth twitched. He could feel Yusuke’s eyes boring into him. Akechi met his gaze and then he turned away. 

Akechi’s hand reached out toward Yusuke’s face. Off to the side, he heard Ryuji inhale a sharp, ragged breath. Yusuke twisted to stare down his nose at him. 

“I remember your painting, the cognitive _you_ ” The left side of Akechi’s mouth curled up, “In Madarame’s palace.” 

“You do?”

“He did a poor job with it,” The pad of his thumb stroked under Yusuke’s eye, “Your eyes were wrong.” 

“I hardly had any face at all,” Yusuke waved him off.

Akechi set the empty water bottle down on the floor. _A mere pawn in the service of another_. The corner of his mouth tightened into a grimace. 

“I was a robot,” Haru fiddled with the hem of her sweater.

“You self-destructed to protect your father, I recall the fight well.” 

Haru’s eyes jerked up to look at Akechi, “I almost forgot you were there.” She rubbed a hand across her face and let out a short laugh.

“And Ann was in a fucking leopard print bikini,” Ryuji rocked onto the back two legs of his char, “Tryin’ to kill yourself ain’t all that bad—“

Akechi’s lip curled back, “How astute of you, _Ryuji_.” 

“Hey, don’t get all pissy, man!” The chair legs slammed back onto the ground. “We’re tryin’ to help!” 

“I never asked for your help, now did I?”

Haru shook her head and took a seat on his other side. Akechi wanted to _laugh_ , he’d expected having Ren’s lovers on either of his sides would feel different than... _this_. He glared at Ryuji from the corner of his eye.

“That’s true,” Haru folded her hands in her lap, “But we’re offering.” She looked down at her hands. 

“An offer you likely do not deserve,” Yusuke said, “Still, it stands for now, should you decide you want it.” 

Akechi laughed— sharp and manic. Yusuke’s jaw slackened and Haru’s eyes jumped up to look at him. His lips stretched into a grin, so wide the corners of his mouth ached. 

“How _wonderful_! We can all play house together like a real _team_. I’ll admit I’m certainly—“ 

Downstairs, Akechi heard the sound of the cafe door swinging open. They all jolted at the sound. Akechi hadn’t even realized how much he’d been looking forward to it, but his chest tightened at the thought of Ren so near. 

“Fuck this,” Ryuji shot up to his feet, “C’mon, guys, leave him,” He waved the other two up to their feet. 

“Bye-bye,” Akechi wiggled his fingers, “Be sure to stop by soon— It’d be tragic if something happened to Ren while his teammates were indisposed.” 

Ryuji stomped down the stairs. Haru looked back at him. Her bottom lip pulled into her mouth, but she looked like she might say something. The side of Akechi’s mouth pulled into a grin. 

“Akechi...” She said his name like it meant a thousand different things: hope, despair, heartache—

Akechi lurched up. His bruised side ached at the sudden movement. Yusuke stepped in front of Haru. Akechi’s mouth curled up into a grin, a grimace, a _mask—_ Yusuke looked away to one of the wooden ceiling beams. 

“Ren’s home now,” Akechi’s eyes narrowed, “It'd be best if you both ran back to him, don’t you think?”

A furrow pulled between Yusuke’s brows, “What is it you’re trying to imply?” 

“ _Well_ ,” Akechi’s mouth formed an ‘o’ with faked surprise, “The two of you,” he pointed from Yusuke to Haru, “Are fucking him, aren’t you?” 

A gasp slipped out of Haru’s mouth. They shared a look with each other. Akechi bared his teeth in a snarl. He wanted to rip them apart, wanted to tear his own hair out, wanted to take them from Joker— just like he’d stolen _everything_ from him—

Yusuke shook his head, “I don’t see how that has any relevance to our prior conversation—“ 

“Of course it does! C’mon, you’re fucking _Joker_ , the least you could be is _smart—_ that’s such a small thing to ask for, isn’t it?” 

“Akechi...” Haru exhaled stiffly. 

Her eyes looked so open— like his words hadn’t hurt her at all, rather like she could see every single wound gauged in his body. Akechi hated it and hated that he _relished_ it. 

“I don’t believe who we choose to _fuck_ ,” Yusuke’s voice out hard and clipped on the word he didn’t often say, “Should be any of your concern— regardless of if those activities involve Ren.”

Haru stepped forward again, like she wanted to say something more. Akechi wanted to scream at them. Instead, she shook her head and followed down the stairs after Ryuji. Yusuke didn’t even look back before he headed down with her. 

Downstairs, Ryuji shouted: “Ha! Good luck bein’ a babysitter, man! Y’know he’s a real piece of—“ The cafe door slammed shut.

After a few moments, Ren came up the stairs with a plastic bag tucked under his arm. He nodded toward Akechi and tossed the bag over to him. _High strength Advil_. Gauze, medical tape, Neosporin. Akechi’s lip curled up.

“Hey, that’s the best I could do with over the counter,” Ren collapsed down on the couch next to him.

Akechi twisted open the bottle. The pills tasted bitter on his tongue. He wanted to gag, to flip over the fucking table in this stupid, trashy attic— instead he forced himself to smile.

“I must admit I’m envious of your way with people, Ren.”

“Really?” Ren’s eyebrows raised.

“Of course, it takes a particularly special person to have not one but _two_ partners. I’d ask how you manage it, but—“

“It’s not like that.”

“Like what, Ren? I'd hate to misconstrue your relationships.”

“Like I’m forcing them,” Ren rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I don’t believe I ever said _that_. I’m sure the both of them are quite happy to be with you, after all you’re teammates—“

“It’s not your words,” Ren shook his head, “It’s _how_ you said it.” 

Akechi’s mouth spread into a wide grin. Ren shook his head again. Akechi leaned closer to him. 

“But I really _am_ jealous of you, Joker,” The left side of Akechi’s mouth twitched, “After all, having even one long term partner would have harmed my reputation and appeal as a bachelor— and I couldn’t have that.”

“How'd that work out for you?”

Akechi belted out a laugh, “Oh, yes, my reputation has been destroyed regardless!” He breathed out an airy, little sigh, “It seems like such a trivial concern now, doesn’t it?”

Ren looked at him: with his eyes squinted and _thoughtful_. Akechi wanted to know what he thought, wanted to wrap his hands around his throat and squeeze— he wanted fucking _everything_. Ren lunged toward him and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt. Their mouths slammed together, too hard and too fast— like fucking children who didn’t know any better. Akechi’s hand fisted up in the back of Ren’s hair. He jerked Ren’s head to the side and deepened the kiss.

Ren’s mouth tasted bitter like coffee. His lips were dry and chapped. Objectively, it was the worst kiss Akechi had ever had. Still, his body thrummed with excitement ready to burst through his veins. He wanted to take and take until there wouldn’t be anything left. 

Akechi grinned against his mouth, “What about your _friends_?”

“You really don’t get it.” 

“Well, perhaps you should enlighten me,” Akechi’s teeth closed over Ren’s lower lip. 

Ren pushed him off and scooted back on the couch. He shoved his hands into his pockets. Akechi’s eyes narrowed. Ren cleared his throat.

“They’re cool with whatever.” 

“Teammates who let each other fuck whoever they want,” Akechi sighed, “Certainly sounds wonderful— no strings attached I’d imagine? Who’s next for you do you think? Ann maybe or perhaps—“

“Shut up,” Ren didn’t sound mad though, he rolled his eyes, “It's like...” he shrugged up a shoulder, “I’ve got a girlfriend and a boyfriend.” 

“And the two of them are also seeing each other as well, are they not?”

“Yeah, but they don’t have to.”

“In that case, Ren, my original point still stands: what would your _girlfriend_ and _boyfriend_ think if they knew you were with me?”

“Nothing. They already know.” 

Akechi’s nose wrinkled up, “That’s impossible.”

“We talked about it before,” Ren said.

 _“When?”_ The word escaped in a hiss of breath.

“Does it matter?” Ren rolled his eyes, “We’ve all known about you and your dirty dealings for a while.” 

Akechi lunged on top of him. Ren’s knees squeezed against his waist. Akechi hissed at the sharp pain blooming up his bruised side. Ren’s hand gripped his chin and jerked Akechi’s face in close. 

“Don’t underestimate me, Joker,” Akechi’s teeth closed over Ren’s lower lip. He gave a sharp nip, “I won’t let you go— I’ll kill you first.”

“Cool,” Ren’s mouth stretched into a lazy smile, “As long as you’re good with sharing.” 

Akechi hummed low in his throat and then Ren slotted their mouths together again. Ren shoved his hand down Akechi’s pants and for a moment the hate boiling under his skin slowed to a simmer. Like this, with a palm palm pressed against him and a shitty couch spring digging into his ass, Akechi could pretend to be... _different_. Could pretend and pretend until he really did become someone like Joker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those of you who have left kudos so far! We both really appreciate it and hope you’ve enjoyed :)


	3. The Emperor and Empress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the kudos! We both appreciate it :)

Only after the bruises on Akechi’s stomach faded to a mottled yellow and the cut on his hand scabbed over did he escape from his attic prison. _Well_ , more like he was kidnapped. 

Albeit, he didn’t put up much of a fight even though he had to wear an ill-fitting hoodie and stained jeans. If he would’ve had to wear a borrowed, threadbare uniform too it would’ve been a proper reminder of his childhood. His upper lip curled back. 

“We’re almost there,” Haru smiled at him.

Akechi tried to slouch or _something—_ to act like how he knew Ren did. Off to the side, he thought he heard the jingle of a bell. His sunglasses slipped low on his nose. 

Haru waved her arm in front of a hole in the wall diner, “Here we are.”

Akechi’s nose wrinkled up at the smell of fatty grease. She’d made her bland excuses before they’d left: Ren’s busy and she really wanted to try this restaurant. Now with the... _restaurant_ in question right in front of him, he didn’t get it: its awning sat askew and had bird shit dripping down the side, it also smelt like greasy pig shit and piss. 

She beamed at him. He sighed and held the door open.

Once inside, seated at a grungy booth with a tower of pancakes between them, Akechi cleared his throat. 

“Why did you bring me here, Haru?”

“I wanted to try the pancake tower,” Haru took a sip of her coffee. Her nose wrinkled up, “And I wanted to speak with you.” She cleared her throat and sat her cup back down. 

“Well then, please, I’d hate to keep you waiting.” 

“When everyone else joined, we, well, _they_ ,” Haru cleared her throat, “Threw a welcome party.” 

Akechi stared down at the sad, flabby mass of pancakes, “What did they do for yours?” 

“Destinyland,” Haru cut off a piece of the pancake, “ It was...” She shook her head, “But they’ve done a lot of other things too! They went to a fireworks festival for Makoto, even though it got rained out, they did hotpot for Yusuke, went to the beach with Futaba—“

“Mmhmm, and what about the very first time?”

“An expensive buffet,” Haru took a bite of the pancake. She swallowed, “I took Ren there to try the coffee with me once.” 

“That sounds interesting,” Akechi sliced off a piece of the pancake. 

The starchy taste of dough and saccharine richness of syrup melted on his tongue. His nose wrinkled up. Haru smiled at him, gentle and kind and soft. An acrid, charred taste lingered in his mouth. 

Haru sat her phone on the table: “Great! I’ll try and get us a reservation for later today.” 

Akechi’s jaw slackened. Haru fiddled with her phone. She texted like a little, old woman using only her index finger to poke at the screen. Akechi heard the ping of the message sending. 

“As excited as I am, both Ren and I are still wanted men.” 

“Hmmm, that’s true… We’ll have to make you disguises— oh,” Haru looked back down at her phone, “Futaba isn’t feeling up to going and Mako is busy with the student council— it really wouldn’t be a proper celebration without everyone there.” 

Akechi waved a hand, “You don’t have to go through so much effort on my behalf.”

“It’s alright,” Haru tucked her phone away, “Think about what you really want to do and that can be your official welcome.” 

Akechi frowned at her. Haru acted so... _nice_. Akechi didn’t know if he hated or loved it. 

“You’re assuming I’ll stick around,” Akechi stabbed his fork through the pancake, “There are many different things I could do yet.” He twisted it and watched syrup bubble up from the gauges.

“That’s your choice,” Haru took another sip of what had to be too-bitter, burned coffee. “We all chose to be here.” 

Akechi dropped his cheek into his palm, “Well, let me know when the party is! It’d be embrassasing being late when I’m the guest of honor.” 

He wondered if he imagined how her eyes softened. She nodded and typed out another text for her teammates. Akechi felt like he was stepping off a goddamned plane without a parachute— his gut churned with excitement, fear, adrenaline— 

“Alright, it’s settled. Your unofficial welcome party is at six. Make sure Ren isn’t late?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

Akechi folded Ren’s blanket up, trying to assemble his futon into something resembling decent. Akechi cleared his throat. Ren continued shoving a tin clasp and piece of yarn together. Akechi dropped the blanket down with a soft thump. Ren’s shoulder barely twitched.

“What are you working on?”

“Lockpicks,” Ren didn't turn around, but he held up a sliver of metal.

Akechi clicked his tongue, “Oh, your chosen profession had momentarily slipped my mind. _Thievery_.” 

“Pot, kettle, black.” 

On the mattress, Ren’s phone buzzed. Aketchi leaned over to look at the screen. The text had come from Yusuke:

> _I must admit, I_ am _curious about him._

Akechi frowned. Another message pinged, this one from Ryuji.

> _Don’t say that, man! He’s a total asshole._

Ryuji followed his assessment with a barfing emoji. Akechi’s upper lip twitched. Three little dots popped up on the screen. He wondered who would text next. Part of him hoped it would be Haru. 

“Peeping Tom.”

Akechi laughed and held the phone out to Ren, “This is the pot calling the kettle black again, isn’t it?” 

“Nah, I don’t spy on you.”

“But your _cat_ followed Haru and I this morning, didn’t he?” Akechi tipped his head to the side.

Ren reached over and plucked the phone out of his hand, “Bring that up with him.” 

“Oh, I intend to— but I must say I’m flattered world famous thieves like yourselves are paying me this kind of attention.” 

“You’re a dumbass,” Ren spun around in his chair.

“Why did you send your girlfriend to butter me up?”

“I didn’t.” 

“Oh! Are we playing coy now? In that case I should apologize for my presumption—“

“C’mon,” Ren pointed a lockpick at Akechi, “You get to be part of the team.” 

The corner of Akechi’s mouth twitched, “Oh, I really can’t wait... though, I would remind you that I _was_ part of this particular team before.”

“Oh, you mean when you set me up and tried to shoot me in the head.”

Akechi grinned, “Yes, _that_ , exactly.”

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?”

“Considering Haru invited me personally, I think it’d be rather rude to skip.”

“Good.”

* * *

Akechi’s second disguise of the day looked... _Well_ , objectively hideous. Again. He’d been shoved into a leather jacket, hair gelled back and a pair of tortoiseshell glasses placed atop his nose. Maybe the ugly purple bags from too many sleepless nights helped with the whole illusion. He looked like a fucking NEET.

The buffet itself looked... _nice_ , all things considered. It seemed like the type of place Shido would frequent. Akechi squeezed his fork in his hand. 

Ryuji leaned half across the table to stare at Akechi’s plate: “Damn, you’re like Ann— you got a sweet tooth or somethin’?” 

“Hey! At least I don’t just eat _meat_!”

Akechi shook his head, “Actually, I don’t. Old habits are hard to break.”

“Huh? Whaddaya mean?”

Ren tucked his hands into his pockets, “Girls like guys with a sweet tooth.” He smiled, close-lipped and wicked. 

Akechi nodded his assent with a coy smile back. He couldn’t help the jolt of excitement that coursed through his body at the realization Ren _remembered_. Yusuke hummed underneath his breath and steepled his hands under his chin. Ryuji shoved at his shoulder. 

Yusuke blinked at him, “What?” 

“Don’t look like you’re thinkin’ about it so hard!” Ryuji stuck out his tongue “C’mon, guys, that’s not—“

“— It makes him seem relatable,” Haru pushed her food around on her plate, “Did your fans like it?” 

Akechi’s mouth stretched into a grin, “Of course.” 

Haru looked up at him and nodded. “But you didn’t, did you?” The left side of Akechi’s mouth twitched.

“Well, that’s fucking sad! Here, man, I got a lot of extras for Yusuke outta habit anyway,” Ryuji shoveled pieces of steak over onto Akechi’s plate with his chopsticks. 

“That’s because you _always_ get too much food, Ryuji,” Ann rolled her eyes, “We all know you only say it’s for Yusuke to look good.”

“Well I certainly appreciate being in your thoughts regardless,” Yusuke swiped a piece of steak off of Ryuji’s plate.

Ryuji batted at his hand, “Ha! More like you’re always in my wallet, you mooch!” 

“Oh, Akechi! You should give the seasonal tart a try! Even if you’re not a huge fan of sweets, it’s delicious,” Ann smiled as she took a bite of the aforementioned tart.

Akechi’s ears rang... like a church bell had forced itself into his eardrums. He nodded past the sound. Someone else laughed along with him. He just laughed and _laughed_ and fed them a whole number of robotic platitudes... it felt, _well,_ more ingenuine than normal. They’d seen the real him in Shido’s palace. Now matter how they acted, he knew they hadn’t lost sight of it. He felt like he was underwater and clawing desperately for air. His ears continued to ring and _ring—_ then he heard a voice.

“I apologize— what did you say?” 

“Would you model for me? I’d like to paint you.” 

Akechi’s mind screeched to a halt. He looked over to them to make sure: and _yes_ , Yusuke stared at him. Ryuji elbowed Yusuke in the side but he just waved him off. 

“I’ll consider it, though I do have to wonder why you’d want me— surely one of your other friends would serve as a better muse.” 

Akechi could think of precisely one reason why someone would want to paint him, and it involved riding his coattails— coattails that were going to burn up any day now when his past scandals came to light. Then again, Yusuke didn’t seem to give a shit about fame. Akechi frowned. 

“Ha! You gonna try to get him to nude model like you did with Ann? Jeez, y’know—“

“Ugh! Drop it, Ryuji!” 

“Well, I assumed my interest went without saying: Akechi, you represent the duality of man,” A strand of hair fell across Yusuke’s forehead, “You said it yourself as well: you’re Yatagarasu, a crow-god of guidance.” 

Akechi laughed, sharp and acrid, “Very well.” Akechi bunched up his napkin and got up to his feet, “If you’ll all excuse me...” 

Ren stared at him with dark and beady eyes. Akechi wanted to throw a fucking knife at him. He shook his head and walked out into the main lobby. A headache pounded at his temples. He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes. 

“... Akechi?”

Akechi jerked around to see Haru. 

“Yes, Haru? Did you need something from me?”

Haru shook her head and came to stand next to him. The corner of his mouth twitched. He could see _it_ in her eyes: something cloying and _kind—_ he wanted to hate it, to hate _her—_

“I said I didn’t want your help before,” Akechi’s lip drew back to snarl, “but, you know, your _pity_ is even worse.”

“I don’t pity you,” Haru shook her head, “My father wasn’t... he wasn’t a good man either.”

“Are you telling me that you _understand_ me?” Akechi took a step closer to her.

She still had that look in her eyes: like she could see right through him. Akechi wanted to give up, to melt and let her see the ugly exposed nerves that made up his core. Haru looked away from him. His breath caught in his throat because he _wanted_ her to look at him again. 

“At fourteen one of my father’s business associates told me I had blossomed into a beautiful young woman,” Haru looked down to where her hands clenched the hem of her sweater, “It disgusted me.”

“But you smiled and played along like the dutiful daughter you were, didn’t you?”

Haru nodded, “I told my father afterward and he said I’d done a good job,” She frowned, “I was useful to him.” 

Akechi reached a hand out toward her. Haru’s eyes widened when his fingertips brushed against her cheek. Her skin felt warm and soft. His hand curled under her chin and tilted her head back to look at him. Her eyes were wide and earnest and so _hopeful—_ everything and nothing that he wanted. Akechi twisted away from her.

“Akechi.”

Haru’s hand latched onto his wrist. His gaze jerked back to her. Her fingers threaded through his and gave a squeeze.

“What do you think you’re doing here, Haru? I don’t particularly like being jerked around.” 

“What I want,” She released his hand. She laughed, light and clear like a bell, “Finally.” 

He shook his head and stalked away from her: because he couldn’t do _this_ , couldn’t play _teammates_ with these people while a vicious longing clawed at his gut.

* * *

Every time Ren left, Akechi gauged an ugly tally into the wall. He counted slowly: 26... 27... _28._ Soon enough his collection would span the entirety of the wall like an insane man’s artwork _How fucking morose._

He wished Ren would invest in a dart board— or anything really. He’d already read the god awful samurai book he kept tucked next to the bed three times too many already and he loathed to read it for a fourth.

Akechi squinted at the plant. He couldn’t remember when he’d last watered the damn thing. He twisted around when he heard the sound of squeaky footsteps on the stairs. He sat up so quick he became lightheaded: from nerves, excitement— 

“Coming back for more?” Akechi’s mouth ached from how wide he smiled, “Two at once is just how I like it you know.” 

Yusuke jerked his chin up, “Don’t be crass.”

Haru held up her bag, “We’re going ice skating!” Akechi could see the lumpy outline of what apparently were figure skates. “We wondered if you’d want to come along.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll certainly be fun,” Akechi dropped his chin into his hand, “But I do worry about the disguises Ren’s devised, after all, someone is bound to see through it eventually.”

Yusuke stared at him: a deep hum rumbling in his throat. Akechi blinked at him, like a picture of perfect innocence. Yusuke’s mouth dropped into a frown. 

Haru cleared her throat, “You wore disguises before too, didn’t you?” 

Akechi’s mouth twitched, “What do you mean? I’m not sure I understand.”

“Oh,” Haru frowned, “Well, because you’re famous, I just assumed—“

“No worries,” Akechi’s smile felt tight— she was right after all, he’d put on his fair share of disguises these past few months while he followed them. His mouth tasted sour. _What if they knew—_

Haru shook her head, “Anyway, we’re going to a rink that’s a little...” She shrugged up a shoulder and smiled, “Off the beaten path.”

“Hmm?” Akechi quirked up a brow, “How ever do you mean?” 

“I went there when I didn’t want to go home.” 

* * *

The rink in question was only a few short blocks away from Leblanc. Akechi wrinkled up his nose: the backstreets always smelt sour like trash and piss. When they arrived at the rink it looked... well, rather _sad_. The dangerous slope of the roof looked like it would leak during a storm. Akechi wondered how the place managed to stay in business.

The inside of the rink looked equally shabby with benches peeling wood and a rusted railing. Akechi sat down and pulled on the skates— they were a half a size too small and pinched the corner of his big toe. Yusuke and Haru both seemed quiet. 

Akechi sighed and looked up at one of the large, flickering fluorescent lights, “I had no idea the two of you skated.” 

Yusuke loosened the laces of his skates and pulled them on, “During a very cold winter, one of Madarame’s other pupils made an ice rink in the backyard— we packed down the snow and slush and sprayed water from the garden hose.” Yusuke looked out toward the ice, “Skating was like a living, breathing art form— I was enthralled.”

“Why did you stop?” Akechi asked.

“When I told Madarame, he forbade me from going again,” Yusuke yanked the laces tight, “It was an unnecessary distraction in the pursuit of art.” 

“His change of heart,” Akechi clicked his tongue, “Did it make you happy?”

Yusuke’s eyebrows drew together. Haru reached a hand out toward him. Her fingers closed against his sleeve. Yusuke’s shoulders slumped down.

“No,” Yusuke looked to the side, “Part of me will always despise him for what he did to my mother. The other part...” Yusuke knotted the laces of his skates tightly, “Well, it wants to be acknowledged by him again— sometimes I wonder if killing him would’ve been— oh, I apologize, Haru!” 

Yusuke’s gaze lurched up to her. Haru shook her head. She folded her hands in her lap. 

“No, it’s...” Haru tucked a strand of her puffy hair behind her hair, “My dad wasn’t a good person.” 

Yusuke nodded, “Yes, but he was still your father, that sort of bond can be difficult to let go.”

“True,” She smiled at him, “I want him to be proud, even knowing that he’s gone but… I’m going to live for me.”

“Haru,” Yusuke reached out, his fingertips stroking along her cheek, “I’ll endeavour to do the same.”

Haru giggled: clear and bright and _brilliant_ : “We can do it together,” She looked toward Akechi then, “You know, you could too, Akechi.”

Akechi laughed at them: loud and shrill and ruthless. Neither of them looked terribly bothered by the outburst, in fact Haru looked like she’d expected it. 

Akechi pretended to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye, “Mmm, perhaps after I’ve had the pleasure of killing my father.”

Yusuke stood up and moved toward the opening of the rink. Haru followed after him. Akechi wanted to growl, to _scream_ at their audacity to ignore _him_ , it felt like—

“He doesn’t deserve to control your life anymore,” Haru said. 

Haru looked effortless, _beautiful_ on the ice. She skated backward and took Yusuke’s hands in hers. He followed after her— more confident and sure-footed than Akechi expected. Yusuke’s hand cradled her cheek and tipped her head back. The two of them made such a beautiful couple. Part of Akechi hated that Ren had to pick _them_ — surely pretty, broken people weren’t the only type he attracted—

“Will you try and stop me?” Akechi finally asked. His fingers dug into the side of the rink boards. 

They slid to a slow stop, Yusuke’s hand rested against Haru’s shoulder blade. They looked at each other for a moment, gazes loaded with hope and expectation— the sort of things that made Akechi’s stomach roil.

Haru’s voice dipped low, “Do you want us to, Akechi?” 

Akechi clicked his tongue and stepped out onto the ice. He glided forward, silent, quick, _deadly_. He twisted into a spin. The muscles of his stomach quivered. He exhaled stiffly: at least he could control _this_. He came to an abrupt stop. He jerked his head to the side to look at them. Yusuke held his hands up, pointed fingers touching his thumbs in a parody of a frame. Haru’s eyes were wide and a close-lipped smile rested in her mouth.

“Why do you look so surprised?” Akechi winked, “I never said I was inexperienced.” 

Haru clapped her hands together, “My ballet instructor would have loved you!” 

“Your movements are captivating, like a swan,” Yusuke agreed, “When did you have the opportunity to learn?” 

“I taught myself— I was eleven when one of my classmates scheduled her birthday party at an ice rink,” Akechi tipped his head back to look at the harsh fluorescent lights, “I practiced for weeks to try and impress my class.” 

Yusuke hummed, “I’m sure no one could take their eyes off you.” 

“Oh,” Akechi breathed out a sigh, “My practice didn’t end up mattering— I moved homes again shortly thereafter.”

Haru nodded, “What made you keep up with skating after that?” 

Akechi smiled at her, “I take pride in being good at all sorts of different things.” He pulled at the hem of his glove, enjoying the feel of the leather fabric biting between his fingers. “ _Well,_ there’s one little thing that’s always escaped me,” Akechi flicked the fabric against his wrist, “Something Ren is apparently quite... _proficient_ in.”

Akechi skated closer toward them, gliding in the ice. He steeled his expression into something demure and harmless. Haru looked like she wanted to ask what _something_ was. Akechi held out a hand toward her.

She placed her palm against his. He pulled her in front of him, her back against his chest and his other hand came up to rest against her waist. He skated to the side, her movements mirroring his own. She was a good skater. Akechi couldn’t remember the last time he had a good partner. She laughed, short and sweet. She spun around in his arms as they came to a stop.

Akechi’s hand slid to the small of her back. He fought the urge to pull her in closer to him— to feel the warmth of her body pressing against his own. This close together, he could smell her perfume— sweet and floral like vanilla and lavender. She cleared her throat. 

“Ren is good at a lot of different things too,” Haru finally settled on, “But you could do it too, I know he’d help if you asked.”

Akechi backed up from her, leaning against the railing of the rink wall. Yusuke cleared his throat from off to the side. Akechi’s eyes flicked to him: his cheeks were pink from the cold of the rink, but his eyes looked bright and interested. He placed a hand on the railing next to Akechi.

“Ren, while not very talkative, does provide a unique perspective. One I personally find quite provocative.”

“Ha! _Ren,_ ” Akechi’s mouth curled up with disdain. 

Akechi gave up and shook his head. Then he laughed and _laughed_. Everything came back to Ren, stupid attic-trash _Ren_ who had everything Akechi wanted and more. His stomach twisted with how much he _ached—_ he wanted Ren, wanted to own him, wanted to flay him open and wear his skin like a fucking suit—

Akechi slid in closer and bracketed Yusuke against the low wall of the rink. He wedged his thigh between Yusuke’s legs. Yusuke stared down his nose at him with a little wrinkle between his brows. This close, Akechi could appreciate the jut of his cheekbones, the elegant slope of his nose. 

“Let me guess, people tell you you’re handsome all the time, don’t they?”

“Not all the time, but I suppose it couldn’t be considered a rare occurrence,” Yusuke looked off to the side.

Akechi’s fingers slid under Yusuke’s chin. His eyes flickered back to Akechi’s. Akechi grinned and leaned in closer. 

“With a face like yours, you could have just about any partner you wanted,” The corner of Akechi’s mouth twitched, “And you want me to believe _Ren_ was the first person who caught your eye?” 

Yusuke’s nose wrinkled up, “Believe what you want— the truth won’t change either way.” 

Akechi’s hand pressed flat against Yusuke’s chest. He tipped his head toward Haru. She looked toward him with wide-eyes: the type of eyes that could see through him. He shivered under her gaze. 

“What about you?” Akechi asked her. “You were a daddy’s girl, had a well-to-do fiancée picked out and everything— why settle for _Ren_?”

“I didn’t settle,” Haru moved closer to them. Her fingers plucked a loose thread on her sweater, “I thought he was cute.” 

Akechi laughed: sharp and manic and loud. Yusuke’s chest jerked against his palm. Haru frowned at him.

“So that’s Ren’s great secret, is it? He’s _cute_ ,” Akechi’s voice dripped with disdain. “That’s why he has everything?” 

“Why are you asking us this?” Haru stepped in close to them— her voice didn’t sound accusing, rather it was gentle, _kind_ —

Akechi upper lip curled back. He wanted to scream, to cry, to beg— 

“You know I suck at skating.”

“Ren!” Haru spun around and waved toward the entryway.

Ren stood in the doorway, leather bag slung over his shoulder with his annoying cat shoved inside. Akechi wanted to laugh at him: just like a gallant hero, swooping in to save his damsel at the eleventh hour. Akechi glowered, he’d never fancied himself a _villain_.

* * *

After what happened at the rink, Akechi didn’t think he’d be hearing from Haru or Yusuke for a while. It served them right, he figured, for trying to stick their noses where they didn’t belong. Imagine his surprise when in the middle of a winter storm, Yusuke came swooping into Leblanc with his painting supplies in tow.

Ren had set up the space heater in the attic before he left to run errands, but the room still felt bitterly cold. 

“Would you like me to take off my clothes?” Akechi leaned toward Yusuke with a demure, close-lipped smile on his face. 

“However you feel the most comfortable,” Yusuke sat down cross-legged on the floor, he balanced his canvas across his lap. A small palette of paint rested next to his thigh. “But if you’re willing that would be my preference.” 

Akechi tugged his necktie loose. Yusuke watched him closely as he started to unbutton his shirt. His teeth closed over the finger of his glove and gave a sharp tug. Yusuke’s throat bobbed. Akechi peeled out his shirt. The chill of the attic had goosebumps breaking out across his skin. 

Yusuke’s eyes skirted down along Akechi’s naked chest. “The lines of your torso are quite striking,” Yusuke balanced his chin against his fist, “I wonder what pose would best accentuate your features… Perhaps, something demure or something wild… Is that too much of a cliche?”

Akechi unbuckled his belt, “You know, fair is fair, Yusuke.”

Yusuke looked down to the blank canvas. Akechi dropped down onto his knees in front of him. Yusuke looked up at him then. Akechi placed his hands against his collar. 

“Here, let me help you,” Akechi leaned in closer and popped open the top button of Yusuke’s shirt. 

Yusuke’s hand closed over his, “I fail to see how it would be necessary for me to—“

“Oh, it’ll just make me feel more comfortable.”

“Well, I certainly can’t paint fully in the nude,” Yusuke released Akechi’s hand, “But if it makes you feel more comfortable I suppose I could take my shirt off?”

The corner of Akechi’s mouth twitched. His hands stroked down Yusuke’s chest and continued to unbutton his shirt. Akechi looked up at him and watched a limp strand of hair fall down across Yusuke’s forehead. Yusuke shrugged out of his shirt without another protest. 

The bones of his collarbone were quite prominent under thin skin. His torso looked ghost-white from the broad expanse of his shoulders down to the narrowness of his hips. Akechi leaned closer and tucked the loose strand of hair back behind Yusuke’s ear. Yusuke’s eyes widened, throat bobbing. 

Akechi sat back on his haunches and hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pants and underwear. “Now then, how would you like me?” Akechi slipped his pants off in one swift motion.

“Pose however you feel the most natural— no, actually, dip your chin up toward the light,” Yusuke gestured with his paintbrush toward the window, “Yes! Just like so!”

Akechi laid his left leg down flat, lifted up his other knee with his right heel pressed to the ground. He draped his arm limply over his knee. He tipped his head back and stared at Yusuke. 

Yusuke nodded and looked down to his canvas. He started to paint— plotting out the base forms and planes of Akechi’s body. Yusuke looked back up to him. 

“Raise your hand,” Yusuke lifted his hand in front of himself, a parody of if he were grabbing a mask off his face.

Akechi did as he’d been instructed— long fingers spreading out over his face. His index finger pressed against his temple. Yusuke nodded and turned back to the painting. 

Akechi sat there for awhile— long enough his leg started to cramp— when he heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet and the soft jingle of a bell. 

Morgana stopped dead on the top of the stairs. His hackles stood up on end and he let out some god awful sound that landed somewhere between a hiss and a scream. A wide grin stretched out across Akechi’s mouth. 

The paintbrush slipped out of Yusuke’s hand as he jerked around: “Morgana!”

“W-why is he _naked_! Where’s your shirt?” 

“Oh my state of undress is merely so my subject,” Yusuke gestured towards Akechi, “Feels more comfortable.”

“B-but why is _he_ not in any clothes?”

“I believe it had something to do with the bare human form being more appealing,” Akechi smiled in mock contemplation, “Then again, I am an amateur, you’d really need an expert opinion...”

“That’s correct! Akechi, please resume your previous position—”

Morgana’s face scrunched up, “Nope! I think it’s time to stop painting for now.”

At Yusuke’s doubtful look, Morgana hastily continued, “After all, it looks great!”

“Hmm, you think so? I do suppose that an intentionally unfinished piece can add an air of mystery to a collection.”

“Exactly! So now both of you can put your clothes back on!” Morgana twisted around and plodded down the stairs, “I’ll give you privacy to dress!” 

Akechi contemplated throwing his shoe at him. He had quite a good throw, he felt confident he’d hit him; and, best case, the stupid cat would go tumbling headfirst down the stairs. Yusuke sighed and set his painting off to the side.

Akechi slid in closer to him. Yusuke frowned at him, “We can resume this another time if need be, for now we should get dressed before—“

Akechi threaded a hand through his hair and tugged him closer; so close that their lips almost touched. Yusuke blinked at him. The corner of Akechi’s mouth twitched. A furrow pulled between Yusuke’s brows. 

“While I’m not opposed to this turn of events I must admit I wasn’t expecting this,” when Yusuke spoke his breath brushed against Akechi’s lips.

The corners of Akechi’s mouth pulled up into a sharp grin. He leaned his head to the side and pressed his lips against Yusuke’s. He tasted bitter like coffee, smelt sour from the paint smeared across his cheek. He grunted against Akechi’s mouth, hands rising to push against his chest. Akechi settled back on his haunches. 

Yusuke looked off to the side, grappling for his shirt, “Wait, before we get carried away, this isn’t the time nor the place. If Morgana comes back —“

“Who gives a shit?” Akechi leaned toward him again, “He’s a _cat_ ; but, if you don’t want to, I’m happy to continue this another time.”

Yusuke had one arm in his shirt before he tipped his head down and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of Akechi’s mouth. His fingertips stroked along Akechi’s jawline. Then he pulled away and Akechi only felt the bitter chill of the drafty attic. 

Akechi tugged back on his clothes while Yusuke gathered up his painting supplies. Akechi’s whole body felt like it’d been doused with ice-cold water. 

“Well, that was fun,” Akechi stood up and shrugged into his shirt, “Let’s do it again some time.”

* * *

“Is that _Akechi_?”

“Oh, you mean that Detective kid—“

Akechi tipped his head toward the aquarium. His glasses reflected blue light and hid his eyes. He slouched over and shoved his hand deep into the pockets of Ren’s leather jacket. The fabric smelt sour like Ren’s cheap deodorant.

“— Wait, no, nevermind!”

Yusuke shifted next to him, “You are such a handsome fellow— just look at your perfectly symmetric body.”

“What are—“ Akechi looked over shoulder: Yusuke balanced his sketchbook in the crook of his arm and stared at a lobster. A _lobster_. “It’s unlikely he can hear you through the glass.”

Haru crouched down, “He looks delicious.” 

“He’s stunning,” the tip of Yusuke’s tongue poked out between his lips, “The perfect muse.” 

Haru giggled and came to rest next to Akechi’s side. Close enough he could feel the heat of her body and smell her perfume. Haru’s fingers threaded through his— warm and sure. Akechi squeezed her hand. She ducked her head, a pink flush dusted her cheeks. The sound of Yusuke’s pencil scribbling stopped. 

Yusuke looked at the two of them, at their joined hands. He tipped his head to the side. Akechi met his gaze and grinned. Yusuke looked back to the stupid fucking lobster.

Haru pulled away and patted the back of his hand. “There’s a lot of other things to see.”

“Well then, lead the way.”

Akechi’s stomach twisted up into knots with how badly he _wanted_. 

Only after he’d returned back to the attic, with Ren’s legs wrapped around his waist did he realize it: he could be normal or happy or _free_ — his teeth ground together. 

“You okay?” 

“Just fucking peachy,” Akechi glared down at him.

Ren, the absolute bastard, _laughed_. He leaned up and pressed a warm, open-mouth kiss to the side of Akechi’s neck. Akechi fisted a hand in his hair. The flat of Ren’s tongue dragged along his pulse point. It felt like _everything_ , sinfully good and Akechi wanted to melt against him. Ren’s thighs squeezed against his waist. Akechi yanked his head back.

Ren grinned at him, smug and _knowing,_ “Did you have fun today?”

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business, Ren.”

“Whatever you say.” 

His eyes looked like the dark, burning pits of hell. Akechi dared him to try and incinerate him. No one could reach the throbbing abyss of his heart. It had abandoned his body long ago so why did he feel so _warm—_ Akechi rubbed a sweaty palm against his thigh.

_“Fuck you.”_

“It’s alright to have fun, y’know.” 

“I’m surprised you feel that way when it’s _your_ partners on the line.”

Ren’s mouth stretched into a lazy grin, “You’re all bark and no bite.”

“Don’t fucking tempt me.”

“Hey,” Ren gripped his wrist, ”I trust you.”

A laugh bubbled up in Akechi’s throat: it felt like a cruel joke, to want something so badly, to be so close he could taste it—

Ren cleared his throat, “They do too. _Well,_ mostly.”

“Then you’re all a bunch of hopeless fools.”

“Sure,” Ren pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth, “You wanna be one too?”

Akechi fisted his hand in his shirt and shoved him back against the couch. He surged forward and kissed him properly. Akechi hated how much he wanted this— to be with these fucking idiots— 

Mostly, he loathed how quickly he’d fallen apart. But this time, he didn’t want to put himself back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter originally had a scene from Haru and Yusuke’s POV exploring their feelings about Akechi— we ended up cutting it but I’ve been considering doing either an extra chapter/work told from their and Joker’s POV.


	4. Hands of Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is quite late— there’s a few scenes I wanted to add but I couldn’t wrangle them into shape so I’m just posting as is.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy!

Haru’s tongue poked between her lips and a little furrow pulled between her brows. She closed one eye and flung the dart. It bounced off the side of the baseboard. 

“Oh!” She raised a hand in front of her mouth. 

A flush burned across the tips of her ears. She glanced over to where Ren and Yusuke sat on the couch. Ren gave her a half-hearted thumbs up. Haru pushed her hair back behind her ears. 

“ _Well_ , if you’re trying to miss you did an outstanding job,” Akechi eyed the dart on the floor.

“Sorry, I’m not very good...” 

“If it’s any consolation I had a very similar experience my first time,” Yusuke crossed his legs, “Ryuji was upset when I kept missing the board.”

Akechi plucked the dart off the floor and held it out to Haru, “You’re left-handed?” 

“Mmhmm,” she accepted the dart with a nod. 

Akechi moved behind Haru. His hands closed on her waist and guided her sideways to the dartboard. He nudged her left foot forward in front of her right. His hand closed over hers on the dart.

Akechi raised her hand up to her eye level, “Stand like this.” He leaned over and dropped his chin down onto her shoulder.

Haru moved her hand forward in a slower version of a throw, “Like this?” 

“Exactly!” Akechi released her hand, “Keep your hips straight,” he dropped his hands onto her hips, “And now you can go ahead and throw.”

Haru threw the dart. It landed square in the middle of the 11. She twisted around in Akechi’s arms. She stood close enough that her chest pressed against his. Her body felt warm, supple— his grip tightened on her hips. 

“Oh,” Haru’s cheeks flushed pink and she took a half step back.

Akechi’s hands slid back up to her waist. Her hands balled up against his chest. She looked up at him.

Ren cleared his throat, “Hey, Akechi.”

“Yes, is there something you needed?” Akechi asked with a close-lipped smile toward Ren, he stroked the back of his hand against Haru’s cheek.

“Do you always feel people up when you teach them?” Ren got up to his feet and tucked his hands into his pockets.

“I remember being quite the gentleman when I taught you pool,” Akechi tipped his head to the side. 

Haru’s face turned bright red. She scurried out of Akechi’s arms and flung herself down next to Yusuke. His eyebrows crawled up toward his hairline. She cleared her throat and tried to smooth out a nonexistent wrinkle from her skirt. 

Akechi pinched a dart between his fingers and held it out toward Ren. He slid his left foot forward and threw it at the board. Bullseye.

Ren rolled his eyes, “ _Showoff_.”

“Me?” Akechi gestured toward himself, “Oh no, it must be beginner’s luck.” He winked at Yusuke and Haru.

“Dumbass,” Ren plucked the dart out of the board and moved back to the throwing line. 

Akechi tipped his head to the side and smiled, “Delinquent trash.” 

Ren laughed and threw the dart— of course it landed in the middle of the dartboard. Haru clapped her hands together. Yusuke held up his hands, pointer fingers touching the tips of his thumbs. The frame of his hand encompassed Ren and Akechi. A lump crawled up Akechi’s throat. Ren grinned at him.

Akechi clicked his tongue, “Well, I can’t say that I’m surprised.”

“—So this is where you went off to.”

Akechi looked over his shoulder to see none other than _Makoto_ standing there. Akechi fought the urge to growl. 

“Mona told me you went missing,” Makoto crossed her arms, “Futaba texted me that Sojiro was going crazy trying to figure out why he was meowing.”

“Oh no,” Haru twisted around to face Ren, “You didn’t tell Mona?” 

Ren shrugged, “I’ll make it up to him later.”

Makoto tucked a short strand of her hair behind her ear, “What are you all doing here anyway?” 

“Oh, um,” Haru‘s face flushed,“Well, it’s a team building exercise?”

Yusuke nodded, “We thought it would be good preparation for our next mission.”

“We haven’t sent the calling card to Shido yet,” Makoto sighed, “You really shouldn’t be going outside if you can help it, Ren.” 

“Hey,” Ren’s head lolled to the side, “Today I’m going by Karasu.”

Akechi rubbed at the back of his neck, “Well that’s certainly a little on the nose, isn’t it?” 

“Re— _whatever_ ,” Makoto fiddled with a strand of her hair, “You should be trying to lay low.” She looked over to Yusuke and Haru, “Can’t either of you talk some sense into him?” 

“Well I can suggest it to him, but there’s no guarantee he’ll listen,” Yusuke leaned over and balanced his elbows on his knees, “Unfortunately, he’s a free spirit.”

A wry smile spread across Ren’s mouth. Makoto just sighed. 

“I’m sorry, Mako, we didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Haru looked over to Ren, “Should we head back to Leblanc?”

“May as well,” Ren shrugged up a shoulder.

The train ride back toward Leblanc felt uncomfortably long: Makoto kept staring over at Akechi every chance she got. The train lurched over a bump. Akechi stumbled back against the window. Haru reached out and grabbed his hand. 

“Here,” She placed his hand atop hers on the straphanger. 

Yusuke sighed next to them, grip tightening on the handrail, “This ride is not as smooth as I’d prefer.”

“Oh, I certainly agree with you,” Akechi glanced at Makoto out of the corner of his eye. 

Akechi didn’t expect Makoto to get off the train with them— then again, he barely knew her. Perhaps he should lower his expectations. His upper lip curled up. She was nearly as insufferable as her sister.

When they arrived back at the door to Leblanc, Makoto hesitated. Ren looked over his shoulder at her. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. The light from the streetlights glinted off of Ren’s glasses. Makoto cleared her throat.

Haru asked: “Is everything alright, Mako?”

“Is everything alright with _you,_ Ren?” Makoto fiddled with the strap of her purse, “I could come in for awhile and talk to you about—“

“I’m alright,” Ren said. At Haru’s nudge he added, “Thanks.” 

“Oh,” Makoto frowned, “Okay then. Have a good rest of your night and please be careful.”

“Hey, I know,” Ren said, “You don’t need to mother hen me.” 

“Okay,” Makoto waved half-heartedly over her shoulder.

Part of Akechi expected her to ask why Yusuke and Haru weren’t going back to the station with her— then again, maybe she already had a good idea of the answer. Ren pushed the door open and flicked on the lights of Leblanc— the closed sign jingled against the door. 

“Where’s Mona?” Haru looked around the cafe. She sat her purse down on one of the booth seats. 

“Probably with Sojiro and Futaba— you guys hungry?” Ren asked them.

He walked over and peeked in the fridge. Yusuke sat down on a stool. He crossed one long, lean leg over the other. Akechi snapped the lock closed on the door. Yusuke’s eyes jumped to him: dark lashes framing equally dark eyes. Akechi grinned at him.

Yusuke folded his hands together on the counter, “I’ll never say no to one of your home-cooked meals, Ren.” 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Ren winked and started pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 

He turned to the stove and pulled out a pan. He spooned out the leftover curry and twisted the stove on. From this angle, Akechi had a wonderful view of his ass. His pants looked tighter than normal, like he’d been vacuum sealed in for fuck’s sake. After a few moments, the rich smell of spices wafted up from the simmering curry.

Akechi eyed the chessboard on the counter: someone had been midgame. He ran his fingertip down along the black Queen. Likely whoever’d been playing white had conceded— black had them cornered.

“I’ve been thinking,” Haru leaned back against one of the tables, “About... _well_ , all of us.” 

“What’s up, Haru?” Ren asked. 

“Well, I… I’ve been wondering,” Haru blushed, “What would happen if we...” her voice drifted off.

After a few moments, Yusuke cleared his throat, “If the arrangement you're proposing is what I think it is, I’m willing to give it a shot.”

“Oh, sorry,” Akechi twisted around to face Haru fully, “I want to make sure I understand— what exactly is it you want?”

A sour lump crawled up in his throat. He felt delirious, lightheaded, _hopeful_. He squeezed his hands into fists. 

“Alright, I’d be interested in becoming, um,” Haru cleared her throat, “Intimate with you all.”

Akechi’s breath caught in his chest. He looked at her: her pretty eyes and the nervous smile on her mouth. He stood up and sauntered toward her. Her mouth parted into a tiny ‘o’. He placed a hand against the back of her neck. Her skin felt warm and soft even underneath the leather of his glove.

Haru looked up at him, “Akechi...” 

Akechi tipped her head back. “All you had to do was ask,” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her mouth.

She let out a quiet noise. Her hand fisted up against his lapel. Her lips were soft and tasted like vanilla from her lip gloss. Akechi’s hand slid down to nestle against the side of her neck— he imagined he could feel the steady thrum of her pulse. 

She drew back slightly, breath warm against his lips, “ _Akechi_ ,” she said his name like a goddamned _promise._

Akechi surged against her, hand tangling up in her hair. She let out another noise and tugged him close. She sat back on the table, Akechi’s thigh slotting between her legs out of impulse. Her body felt warm, brilliant, _perfect—_ Akechi grew lightheaded. Behind him, someone cleared their throat. 

Haru pulled away with a startled, “ _Oh!_ ”

Akechi backed up from her, his head tipped to stare over his shoulder. Ren looked expressionless behind the sharp glare off his glasses, but Yusuke’s throat bobbed. When Akechi grinned at him, he looked away. A red flush burned at the tips of his ears and he crossed his legs— Akechi could just imagine the damning evidence his tight, leather pants couldn’t hide. 

Ren turned off the stove and pulled down four plates. For a moment, the cafe was quiet other than the soft clink of plates. Akechi’s heartbeat throbbed against the side of his neck. 

Finally, Ren sighed and slouched against the counter, “You guys sure?”

“That’s not the reaction I imagined from our fearless leader,” Yusuke looked over to him with his eyes hooded low. 

“I don’t wanna force you into some sort of mistake—“

“ _If_ it’s a mistake,” Haru stood up from the table, “I want to make it. I want to live my life...” She shook her head.

“—For _you_ , right?” Akechi smoothed out his lapel, “I believe that’s what you told me before.”

“Yes,” Haru smiled at him.

A lump crawled up Akechi’s throat— he felt _giddy—_ like how he imagined school children felt with their first crush. Butterflies tumbled in his stomach. He didn’t know how to be... _this._

It fucking terrified him, excited him— _shit_ , he realized with a jolt, he didn’t want anything else. He couldn’t even remember what it’d been like not wanting them.

* * *

After dinner, they all headed up to the attic. 

The four of them piled together on Ren’s bed— it felt cramped already with Haru pressed up against one of Ren’s sides and Akechi on the other. He breathed in the rich, tangy smell of sandalwood from Akechi’s cologne. Yusuke hovered at the foot of the bed, one leg drawn up against his chest with his chin balanced on his knee.

“Oh!” 

Haru got up and flicked off the lights, then plopped back down. Ren squinted past the sudden darkness in the room— other than the soft, blue light spilling in from the window due to the streetlights and neon signs down below, he couldn’t see a thing. 

“I must admit, for Phantom Thieves I _was_ expecting one of you to have a nicer bed than a futon stacked atop crates.” 

Akechi moved onto his knees. His whole face wrinkled up with clear displeasure. Ren wanted to laugh at him, but figured now wouldn’t be a good time. Yusuke looked pensive, staring at them quite intently. Haru just looked nervous with her arms folded in front of her chest.

“Is this _really_ the largest bed between the three of you?” Akechi asked. He looked at them and saw Haru shake her head. “Wonderful! Then it’ll be yours or mine next time.” 

“Thought yours was unavailable,” Ren tipped his head over toward the blanket laid across the couch on the other side of the room. 

Akechi hummed low in his throat, “For now.”

Akechi tugged his tie loose. Yusuke blinked past the murky darkness, leg falling open. Akechi’s teeth looked sharp and white with blue light reflecting off them. He slipped out of his shirt. Ren squinted at him: the flat planes of his stomach, the narrowness of his waist. Still, he looked _strong_ , much stronger than he looked wrapped up in his trench coat. He looked so... harmless normally. Like a mouse. Ren loved seeing him like this.

“Oh,” Akechi tipped his head to the side, “You may as well all take your clothes off— I can hardly see a thing anyway.”

Ren rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt off. Akechi’s eyes looked heady and excited, pupils blown wide in the darkness of the room. Haru’s fingers closed on the hem of her shirt— Ren imagined her quiet 1,2,3– she yanked her shirt off. She wore a pink bra with a polka dot pattern on it. Ren’s throat grew dry.

Yusuke slid in close to Haru. He leaned down and whispered something against the shell of her ear. She patted a hand against his shoulder. Her hand slid against his stomach and pushed up his shirt. A little moan caught in his throat. He dipped his head down and their lips closed together— soft, sweet— Ren’s stomach twisted as heat pooled down between his legs. Yusuke’s fingertips stroked up Haru’s spine and unclasped her bra.

“Well, look at how darling the two of them are,” Akechi’s breath burned against his ear.

Ren twisted around to face Akechi. Akechi’s grabbed his hair and his nails scrapped against his scalp. A sharp exhale slipped out of his mouth. Akechi jerked Ren’s head back. 

Akechi leaned closer, his breath warm against Ren’s neck, “Want to watch me fuck your girlfriend and boyfriend, Ren?” 

Ren stared down at Akechi, “If you’re up to it,” his glasses slipped lower on his nose. 

Akechi tossed his head back and laughed. The sound stopped abruptly as he yanked harder on Ren’s hair. Ren grunted at the sudden pain. 

Ren startled when Yusuke draped himself against his back— either out of interest or boredom, like an over-large cat. Ren settled back against the sturdy weight of his chest. Yusuke pressed a kiss underneath his ear. Akechi’s smile widened into something full of teeth and dangerously sharp. 

Haru cleared her throat. When everyone looked toward her, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Do you have condoms, Ren?”’

“Yeah,” Ren untangled Yusuke from himself and flopped over the side of the bed. 

Ren’s foot kicked against a thigh— probably Akechi’s he’d guessed. Whoever had been kicked let out a grunt. Ren dug around the little crevice along the side of the bed. He fished out some of the silver packets.

Ren sat back down at the head of the bed, trying to give everyone else space to get comfortable. Haru sat next to him, her skin blisteringly warm where it pressed against his arm. She smelt like vanilla, like _Haru—_ so fucking perfect that Ren felt like he might melt. 

Yusuke stared at them with his pupils blown wide. He reached out and stroked a hand down Ren’s face. He looked so hopeful and eager and earnest— something dangerous and delightful swelled in Ren’s chest. Akechi’s hand closed over Yusuke’s shoulder. He tugged Yusuke down so quick all the air escaped his lungs. Akechi grinned and crawled on top of him, one of Yusuke’s legs slotting between Akechi’s own. 

Akechi’s palm pressed Yusuke down flat onto the bed. A grunt lodged deep in Yusuke’s throat. Akechi’s fingers brushed down against the zip of his pants. Yusuke’s throat bobbed. Akechi grinned and leaned in closer, fingers tugging down his zipper. Yusuke inhaled sharply. Akechi hooked his hands into the waistband of Yusuke’s pants and tugged them down around his thighs. Akechi scooted down along his body. His teeth nipped against the bony jut of Yusuke’s hip. 

Haru’s breath caught on a shaky inhale. Ren’s hand dipped down between her legs. She let out another quiet gasp. He pushed her skirt up, hand stroking against her inner thigh. She gently grabbed onto his wrist.

Akechi twisted around to look at them. “Haru,” He tipped his head to the side, “Can I borrow you for a moment?” He held a hand out toward her.

 _“Oh,_ ” Haru scooted closer, “Okay.” She slipped her hand into his. 

Akechi pulled her in closer. Her knee accidentally pressed into Yusuke’s side. Yusuke let out a surprised grunt. 

“Oh, sorry!” 

“It’s quite alright, accidents happen.”

Honestly, Ren didn’t think Yusuke had any business still sounding that eloquent. He would’ve said as much, but he couldn’t find the words. He felt lightheaded, all the blood in his body pooling between his hips. 

Akechi’s hands moved to Haru’s waist as he pulled her in front of him. Her legs spread out around Yusuke’s waist as she settled down on top of him. 

Haru leaned closer to him, “Is this okay?” 

Yusuke let out a tiny grunt in response before he managed to nod. Akechi eased himself against Haru’s back, hand stroking up along her ribs. Her breath quivered in her throat. Ren fumbled with the zip of his pants, pressing the heel of his palm against himself. His back bumped against the wall. Akechi’s hand closed over Haru’s breast, his mouth pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the side of her throat. Ren’s hips jerked up against the weight of his palm. Akechi’s other hand slid against the back of Haru’s hips and gave a solid flick to the waistband of Yusuke’s boxer-briefs. 

Akechi glanced over his shoulder and _grinned_ at Ren. Ren’s mouth trembled to hold back a moan. His glasses fogged up with each breath. 

Ren didn’t know exactly how it happened, but one of the crates slipped on the floor— he felt the makeshift bed shift, heard _someone_ shout— after that gravity took over.

He blinked up at the ceiling, one leg still hooked over a crate and tangled up in his sheets. 

_“Fuck!”_

Ren didn’t mean to laugh at Akechi, but he really couldn’t help it. Akechi fucking _glowered_ at him. Ren rolled onto his side to look at Haru and Yusuke. They were laid out on the floor in varying states of undress. 

“You guys okay?”

Yusuke propped himself up onto his elbows, “Yes, I believe so.” 

Haru clapped a hand over her mouth while her shoulders wracked with repressed giggles— she barely managed to nod. Akechi shot her a dirty side-eye too. She tried to look serious but the glimmer in her eye gave her away. 

“You know, Joker, if you had an actual fucking bed,” Akechi’s mouth curled up to snarl, “In your shitty attic—“

“Relax,” Ren untangled himself from the sheet and dragged the futon down onto the ground. One of the boxes banged over onto its side. He haphazardly chucked the sheet over the futon, “Good as new.” 

Downstairs, the cafe door unlocked. 

Akechi’s whole face wrinkled up into an grimace, “Are you fucking serious right now—“

“—Ren?” Futaba called up.

Ren ambled up to his feet, “Yeah, what’s up?” 

He plodded down the stairs and rubbed at his bruised ass. Futaba stood in the middle of the cafe with Morgana in her arms.

Futaba grinned at him, “Y’know, I got the cafe bugged, well we heard a super loud noise on the monitor and—“

 _“OH!”_ Morgana screeched— loud enough Futaba ended up dropping him. “Ren!” He sounded fucking scandalized.

Ren rubbed at the back of his neck, “Jeez, what’s—“ then he remembered he wasn’t in a shirt and his unzipped pants were hanging awfully low on his hips. “Oh, yeah. My bed broke.”

“ _Our_ bed, Ren!” Morgana gasped.

“Sure, our bed,” Ren said, “Well, it broke—“ 

“—For fuck’s sake!” Akechi stomped down the stairs, “What is taking so long?” He’d at least put back on a shirt—then again, said shirt’s buttons were done up crooked.

Morgana _croaked_ out a loud, broken noise, “Ren! Are cheating on Haru—“

“Wait, _Haru_!” Futaba jabbed a finger toward Ren, “But I thought you and Inari—“

“You guys don’t get it,” Ren said.

Morgana recoiled, “You’re not so great at explaining, you know! I really thought you and Haru—”

“— _Ren_ ,” Futabab said, “What's he going on about?”

“Look it’s—” Ren looked at Akechi. A wide smile stretched across Akechi’s mouth. Ren sighed, “When I explained it to Ryuji, I told him it’s like I have a girlfriend and a boyfriend.”

“Wait! You told _Ryuji_ and not me!” Morgana’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, it just came up when I was talking about Yusuke and Haru.” 

“Fine, I see how it is,” Morgana turned his nose up, “And how exactly does that explain Akechi?”

“Don’t worry, Mona. Ren isn’t doing anything I don’t know about,” Haru poked her head down the stairs, “Or at least, I don’t think he is.” 

The stairs creaked and Morgana’s eyes blew open wider. Yusuke brushed a loose hair off his forehead and sighed. Futaba burst out laughing.

“Hello Futaba, hello Morgana,” Yusuke nodded toward both of them.

“So you really are in on this?” Futaba jabbed a finger toward him, “I wasn’t expecting you to be into this freaky stuff, Inari.”

Yusuke glared, “Excuse me? I hardly think any of this qualifies as _freaky_.”

Futaba cackled. Akechi cleared his throat and spoke over her, “Now that this... _misunderstanding_ is settled. Will you all be on your way?”

“I live here,” Morgana said with a huff, “You’ve already broken one bed. Plus, Haru and Yusuke have classes tomorrow.”

Akechi laughed: “So?” 

Morgana glared at him, “Yeah, I think it’s time to stop for the night.” 

“Well,” Futaba tipped back on her heels, “I’ll be heading back home now.”

Yusuke walked down the stairs, “Would you like us to walk you back on our way to the station?” 

“Sure! Plus this way you can tell me more about your illicit love affair,” Futbaba grinned at Yusuke— he rolled his eyes. 

“Goodnight everyone,” Haru smiled at all of them, “I’ll see you all tomorrow?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ren slouched back against the stair railing. 

Haru, Yusuke, and Futaba all left Leblanc. To Ren’s side, he heard Akechi let out a long sigh. Morgana pattered up the stairs, long fluffy tail stroking against Ren’s ankle.

“Well, let’s head to bed!” 

Akechi shot a glare at Morgana as he climbed up the stairs. Ren sighed.

“This certainly wasn’t the ending I was expecting for my night,” The corner of Akechi’s mouth drew up into a grimace. “Well, I suppose sometimes these things can’t be helped, now can they?”

“Relax,” Ren climbed up the stairs after Morgana, “Blue balls won’t kill you.”

“Yes, well, we’ll certainly see about that,” Akechi’s nose wrinkled up. 

Ren didn’t mean to laugh at Akechi, but he sounded so pissed off that he really couldn’t stop himself. Akechi just grumbled under his breath as he followed him up to the attic.

* * *

It took almost a week for the four of them to schedule their tryst. Apparently, Yusuke had decided to text Haru an unholy amount of... _ideas_ about what they should do for their encounter. She’d been excited to plan with him. At least, that’s what Ren had passed along to Akechi.

Regardless, it began with Akechi and Ren going to pick him up from Kosei High’s dorms. The dorms in question were... well, awful. Paint splatters covered the floor, wall, and ceiling. The only piece of real furniture was a futon folded up and shoved in the corner. 

On the far wall leaned a bright, colorful portrait of Ann— at least, it resembled her in an abstract, Picasso-esque sort of way. To the side sat a bunch of Yusuke’s other projects: a fiery crater from the earth, something geometric and blue, and a light, pastel watercolor in his sketchbook.

Akechi picked the sketchbook up: it was a closeup of Haru, done as a side-view with hundreds of colorful flowers bursting from her hair. Akechi stroked his fingers across the paper. 

Yusuke shrugged into his blazer, “I nearly forgot— I’ve been wanting to show you.” He rummaged through a stack of canvas and pulled one out. 

He turned around with it: the composition and color wasn’t unlike his other pieces, _Desire_ and _Desire and Hope_. The background looked like a living, raging thing: done in blacks and blues and reds. But a light cut through the piece and illuminated a figure. His face looked arrogant, but... _kind._ Like he could hold a hand out to the viewer or crush them under his heel.

Akechi _laughed._

Yusuke frowned at the reaction. Akechi shook his head. He took a step closer to the piece; Yusuke had made him look so... majestic. Untouchable, maybe.

“You made me look like a God.” 

Yusuke nodded, “Yatagarasu.” 

The corner of Akechi’s mouth ached from how wide his grin stretched. Ren scoffed into his hand.

“C’mon, Yusuke,” Ren said, “He’s got a big enough head already.” 

Yusuke frowned, “Is it not any good? I’ll admit I don’t think it’d be suited for a proper exhibition. It feels too... personal, I suppose.”

“Hey,” Ren shook his head, “It’s good.” He shot a side-eye toward Akechi, “But...” 

“I love it,” Akechi decided.

Yusuke smiled at him, close-lipped and warm and fond. Ren rolled his eyes. A short buzz cut through the air. Ren dug into his pocket for his phone. Akechi nudged him with his elbow.

“Something the matter, Ren?”

“Nah,” Ren shrugged up a shoulder, “I’m texting Haru to let her know we’re on our way over—“ 

“Well then! We had best not keep her waiting,” Akechi shepherded the two of them out of the room.

* * *

Akechi looked around Haru’s room: a plush, white duvet spread out across a large bed with a large landscape painting on the wall overhead. On the corner of the painting he saw a tiny, cursive _YK_. The whole room smelt like cinnamon and vanilla from the reed diffuser in the corner. 

“Now this is more what I had in mind,” Akechi sat down on the bed and gave a pat next to him.

Ren collapsed down onto the bed next to him. He laid back and folded his arms behind his head. Haru went to the large window and tugged the blinds closed.

“You’ll have to be out before morning,” Haru turned toward them, “I’m sure the housekeeper will be horrified if she finds out.”

“So?” Akechi peeled off his gloves, “You're living for _you_ now, right? Why does their opinion matter?”

“That’s true,” Haru shook her head, “But I’d like to avoid any gossip getting back to the company.” 

“Whatever you want,” Yusuke shrugged out of his coat and hung it up on the hanger on the back of the door. “Would you like me to get the lock?”

Haru nodded, “Yes, thank you.” Yusuke twisted the lock to the side. 

Akechi unbuttoned his jacket and slipped out of it. Ren leaned over toward him. His fingers grabbed onto the hem of Ren’s shirt and pulled it overhead. Ren twisted out of it, hands closing on Akechi’s belt and unbuckling it. Akechi grinned and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth.

His lips felt warm and chapped. It felt... _right_ , to be pressed so close Akechi could feel the warmth of his body. Akechi tangled a hand up in his hair. Ren groaned against his mouth, hands popping open the buttons of Akechi’s shirt. A low, pleasant hum settled in Akechi’s gut. He backed up from Ren and peeled the rest of his clothes off.

Akechi felt the bed dip down on the other side. He saw a _very_ naked Yusuke sitting down. He looked so lean, _elegant_ , almost inhumanely so. Ren twisted around and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the back of Yusuke’s neck. 

Haru sat down at the foot of the bed and slipped out of her bra. Her skin looked soft and beautiful and _perfect_ — Akechi felt like a lovesick fool, like he could drown at the damn sight of her. 

Ren’s hands hooked into his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear in a shift motion. He kicked them off. Yusuke moved up toward the head of the bed. They all looked so... _whole_ , so complete. Like together maybe their cracked, broken edges could fit together. Akechi’s chest tightened. He felt like a hundred different, jagged shards of glass. No one could fix him. He didn’t _want_ them to fix him. But to be broken together— 

“Hey,” Ren's voice came out quiet and sure. Akechi didn’t know who he said it to. It didn’t really matter anyway. 

Ren crawled over to Haru. His hands closed over her waist and tugged her to lay down. His finger hooked under the elastic of her underwear and tugged it down her legs. Haru let out a quiet, little noise. Ren settled on top of her, her thighs moving apart to give him room. 

Ren’s head dipped down between Haru’s legs. She let out a soft gasp, toes curling against the sheets. Ren’s hand eased her thigh open wider. His tongue dragged against her. Haru let out another quiet noise. 

_“Beautiful_.”

Yusuke watched them with wide, eager eyes; he looked from the whipcord-strong muscle of Ren’s back to the soft skin of Haru’s thighs. Ren’s head dipped down and Haru gasped. Heat prickled at the back of Akechi’s neck. God, how he _wanted_. Yusuke’s thumb swiped against his lower lip. His mouth looked fucking sinful and delicious—

Akechi lunged on top of Yusuke. He grunted as his back hit the mattress. Akechi placed a hand against his throat— could feel his Adam’s apple bobbing against his thumb. 

_“Hey_ ,” Akechi leaned in close and whispered against the shell of his ear, “You ready, pretty boy?”

Yusuke cleared his throat, “Yes, I believe so.”

Akechi’s teeth nipped at his earlobe. Yusuke’s throat quivered and Akechi momentarily pressed his thumb down harder. Yusuke’s breath caught on an exhale. His eyes looked cloudy and desperate and _beautiful_. Akechi grinned and backed up. 

Akechi pressed a silver packet against Yusuke’s mouth, “Then get to it.” Yusuke’s teeth momentarily closed over the foil.

Yusuke just _blinked_ , like his mind had short circuited. Akechi reached a hand down between his legs. He felt hot and eager. One of his knees pressed tightly against Akechi’s side. Akechi took him in hand properly. His eyes widened, then fluttered closed as Akechi gave him a firm, languid stroke.

“Try not to choke,” Akechi’s mouth ached from how wide he smiled.

Yusuke blinked— once, _twice_ — and his eyes _finally_ cleared. He nodded and took the packet out of his mouth. He ripped it open with shaky hands. He would’ve expected an artist to have steadier hands. Akechi clicked his tongue and took it from him. He placed the condom against Yusuke’s tip and rolled it down his shaft. Yusuke’s throat bobbed with a repressed moan. 

Someone tapped Akechi’s shoulder. Haru hovered nearby. A red blush burned across her face and chest. Ren sat up against the headboard, reaction hidden behind the glare of his glasses other than the flushed hardness between his legs. 

Akechi smiled at her, “Well, come here.” He placed a hand on her elbow and guided her close.

Yusuke propped himself up on his elbows as Haru moved to straddle his hips. She settled on top of him and he let out a small grunt. Akechi dropped his hands down onto her hips. Her skin felt soft and deliciously warm. 

“Is this okay?” Haru leaned toward Yusuke, her hips moving back off of his.

One of Yusuke’s hands lifted to cradle her cheek, “Yes, it’s perfect.” 

Haru placed her hand over his and threaded their fingers together. Yusuke tugged her down into a kiss. It sounded soft, sweet, sinfully _wet—_ the heady thrum of arousal burned through Akechi’s veins. He looked over at Ren and watched him press a hand between his legs. Ren tipped his head back, corner of his mouth quirking up.

Akechi jerked his chin toward the nightstand, “Would you be kind enough to pass me a condom and the lube, Ren?”

Ren huffed out a breath and tossed the items over to him, “Since you asked nicely.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” 

Akechi’s teeth closed over one of the condom packets. He ripped it open. Ren watched him with wide, dark eyes. Akechi grinned as he rolled it up the length of himself. He pressed himself up against Haru’s back, lube-slicked fingers stroking along the seam of her ass. She gasped when his finger pressed inside of her. 

Her hips pressed down against Yusuke. His hand grabbed onto her hip. His mouth tightened when he felt the soft wetness between her thighs brushing against him. Akechi pressed another finger into her.

Haru’s voice trembled, “Go ahead.”

Yusuke nodded with a soft groan. He took himself in hand and guided his tip against her. She sunk down on him, an eager breath catching in her throat. Yusuke’s head tipped back with a flush burning across his ears. She settled down on him fully, hands pressing on his chest. Akechi slowly started to pump his fingers inside her. 

She rolled her hips in time with his movements. Yusuke’s grip tightened on her hip. His hips pressed up to meet her out of impulse. Akechi looked over toward Ren: he’d started to stroke himself, teeth closed over his lower lip.

Akechi hooked his chin over her shoulder, “Well, are you ready?” 

“Uh-huh,” Her voice sounded airy and breathless, “I think so.” 

Akechi withdrew his fingers and wrapped them around the base of his shaft. Her hips stilled against Yusuke— a shaky exhale spilling from his mouth. Akechi’s head started to press inside. Someone— _Ren_ , Akechi belatedly realized— groaned. 

She felt tight and blisteringly hot around him. He groaned at the feeling, hand resting atop Yusuke’s on her hip. It felt wonderful— like everything he’d ever wanted. Akechi started to move inside her, her body falling into a rhythm with his as she rocked against Yusuke. 

“Ren,” Yusuke said, “Come here.” 

Ren scooted toward them. Yusuke reached toward him, but Ren gently batted his hand away.

Yusuke’s nose wrinkled up, _“Ren.”_ It didn’t sound as scolding as he intended, rather it sounded desperate.

“Hey,” Ren brushed Yusuke’s hair back off his forehead, “You sure?”

“Yes,” Yusuke reached a hand back and grabbed onto his hip to pull him in close. 

Ren placed his knees on either side of Yusuke’s head. Haru straightened up to make room for him. Ren rolled his eyes and bent over, back arching. Yusuke leaned up and the flat of his tongue dragged out against Ren’s tip. His mouth parted open and Ren pushed his hips down eagerly. Yusuke fingernails dug into the meat of his thigh. A quiet, desperate sound caught in Ren’s throat.

Haru moaned before she clapped a hand over her mouth. Akechi felt desperate, delusional— he didn’t know what to feel other than the pleasure thrumming through his body. They felt like a tangle of bodies, too little and too much— Akechi didn’t want to go back to being himself, he just wanted _this_. 

Someone moaned— it could’ve been him or Haru or Yusuke or Ren— He felt like he stood at the edge of a cliff, he wanted to tip over and fall, he wondered if they felt the same. He wanted and wanted and _wanted_ — felt like such a fool for ever resisting _this_. Fuck Shido. Fuck destiny. _This_ could be his fate, he could find himself in their embrace, lose himself, rebuild himself— his body thrummed with damned _desire_.

He wanted to break into a million more pieces, wanted to be crushed into dust and dirt. He just wanted _them_ , all three of them, together with him just like this. He felt lightheaded and selfish and angry and fucking breathless. His body ached for them.

To keep _this_ , He’d gladly tumble into the depths of hell. 

Afterward, they laid tangled up together in a pile of sweaty, sticky skin and limbs. If felt...well, disgusting really. 

Yusuke’s eyes were drifting closed and Haru laid across his chest with her head pillowed on his shoulder. Ren stretched an arm out overhead and yawned.

“Sure we can’t stay the night?” Ren asked.

Akechi hummed low in his throat, “Perhaps a bath at least— I’d hate to take public transportation smelling like... _this.”_

Haru lifted her head up, “I have a rather large tub actually— I’m not sure it’d fit four people though—“

Akechi grinned widely, “Would you like to find out?”

* * *

Akechi wanted to live like _this_ : in this shitty attic, eating curry leftovers more often than not. Fuck fame or fortune or revenge. 

“I’m gonna send the calling card to Shido tomorrow. 

A pain squeezed Aketchi’s chest. Things would change, they had to change. Hell, this could be one of his last times in this shitty attic-trash bedroom. His hands clenched into fists. 

“I’m not going with you to the palace,” Akechi said. 

Haru shifted next to him, “Akechi...”

Yusuke cleared his throat, “Considering Shido is your father—“

“—And that’s why you should know better than to have me come,” Akechi slumped over on the couch with its shitty spring digging into his ass, “I’ll rip his throat out— I thought you were all smart enough to realize that.”

“You really want that?” Ren tucked his hands into his pockets.

“You’re lucky I’m giving you a choice,” Akechi stared up at the wooden beams of the ceiling, “I might just change my mind and kill him regardless.”

Haru dropped down onto her knees next to him. Her hand gently closed over Akechi’s fist. Yusuke stared at him: eyes hooded and glassy and _knowing_.

“Akechi,” Her words came out soft, “Are you sure?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it? In any case, you’re all in for an exciting day tomorrow,” Akechi rolled his eyes, “I’ll try not to get jealous.”

Ren stared at him too, with those dark, beady eyes. Akechi shook his head. Haru softly squeezed his hand.

Yusuke sighed, “The choice is yours.” 

Ren shoved his hands deep into his pockets, “Try not to go stir crazy all by yourself.”

Akechi gestured to the tally marks he had lovingly scratched into the wall these past few weeks, “It’s far too late for _that_ , Ren.” He meant it as a joke, but no one laughed. He couldn’t really blame them.

* * *

He shouldn’t have followed them— should’ve let them go— a bitter, metallic taste settled in his mouth. If they died here because of his fucking father— Akechi shook his head. He’d make sure that didn’t happen. So he fucking _ran_.

His chest ached and calves burned. He saw _him_ , his father, with grease and blood dripping down an inhuman chest. He looked like he’d fucking ingested a years worth of steroids. Akechi’s mouth curled up. 

He could see Ann, Ryuji, Makoto, on the ground— Akechi’s nose wrinkled up. Hopefully they weren’t dead—

Shido screamed; a blood-curdling noise that tore his throat raw. He charged forward.

 _“Ren!”_ Yusuke threw himself in front of him. 

Akechi’s throat burned from how loud he shouted. A brilliant, blinding light burst in front of Ren and Yusuke. The barrier shattered into pieces. The two of them lurched backward.

_“Principality!”_

For a moment, everything felt warm and bright and _safe_. Like coffee and curry and Ren’s stupid attic. Akechi pounded his fist against his side. The pain grounded him. He blinked past blurry eyes to where Shido stood. 

Shido howled. He threw his arms open. The ground rattled and a huge crack burst across the stage. Haru stumbled down to her knees. 

Akechi skidded across the ground. He threw his arms up in front of his face. A brilliant light exploded in front of him. He landed on his knee, pain shot up his leg. Black spots burst across his vision. 

Akechi twisted to the side and fucking _clawed_ toward them. His mouth tasted sour with blood. Past the stink of sweat and bile, he could smell vanilla— He grabbed onto Haru’s arm. 

Haru jerked around, “Akechi!” 

“Hey,” Akechi, rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, “Long time no see.”

Yusuke frowned at him, “Why did you come?” 

“I couldn’t let my father kill you now, could I?” Akechi spat out a glob of blood, “Just don’t get in my way.”

“Will you kill him?” Haru gripped his sleeve. 

Akechi rolled his eyes, “I’ll leave that choice to our _fearless leader_.” 

Haru released him, “Alright.” 

Ren grinned at him, with his mask crooked and cracked. The leather of Akechi’s gloves creaked on the hilt of his sword. He lunged at Shido.

Akechi’s throat burned from how loudly he screeched. He shoved his sword forward. Shido’s hand closed on the blade. Akechi dropped the sword. He leapt at Shido, legs closing around his chest and hands digging into his face. 

Shido’s arm pounded against him. Pain spread across his ribs. _He—_ Akechi or Shido or both of them— cried: a broken and desperate and angry thing. Akechi’s thumb shoved against his eye. 

Sharp, electric pain shot up Akechi’s body. He hit the ground hard. He croaked, chest burning to try and breathe. 

A gunshot cracked through the air. Shido staggered to the side. Akechi heard leather gloves clapping together— like a high-five— a katana blade pierced through Shido’s stomach. Yusuke twisted out from behind him. Blood poured down Shido’s front. 

Akechi stumbled up onto his knees. Ren’s hand pressed against his shoulder. Aketchi snarled with bloodied teeth.

“Loki—”

“—Kali!”

Shido screamed and the whole world _rocked_.

Yusuke stumbled to the side. A hole had been torn into the side of his jumpsuit— skin bruised purple and yellow. _Something_ —magic, a knife— cut through the air. Another barrier burst in front of Yusuke. A drop of blood slid down his cheek. Haru rushed toward him. His hand closed on her arm. The ground _rattled_ and the two of them dropped down onto their knees.

“Are you okay?” Haru asked.

“Yes,” Yusuke smiled at her, “Thanks to your barrier.” 

“If I’m gonna fucking fight for _you_ ,” Akechi jabbed a finger toward them, “Don’t die or I’ll kill you myself!”

Ren jerked his chin to the side, “Hey, let’s finish this.” _Together_. Yusuke’s hand tightened on his katana and Haru nodded. 

Akechi’s mouth ached from how wide he grinned, “Let’s!” 

They wouldn’t end here. Rather, they were just _beginning_. His chest tightened. They would do this, and whatever came after, together. 

Akechi charged forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :)


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